Adoption Into India!
by Lakshmi1
Summary: Finding Harry in the streets, Sara adopts the small boy and takes him back to India, their magic, and lifestyle. Returning years later to find out about his destiny, will Harry still want to fight for a country and a world that has given him nothing? AU
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer:-**_ I do not own any Harry Potter characters. Al the other character however are my thinking.

PROLOGUE

I held the coat closer to myself. Oh god! This chilling weather. Stupid cold! Stupid London! Oh why did I agree to come here in November of all months. I walked along the cobbled streets aware of the drunken gazes along my way. I needed to hurry up if I wanted to reach the hotel safely. Almost feeling violated I started to walk quicker (which had to impossible considering the point in these stupid pencil heels! Never buy shoes on sale!) to avert myself from their hungry eyes. At last, a safety corner. It was behind the big and smelly dumpster, right next to the neon sign 'Pizzeria'. Finally! I brought out my cell phone and began to dial for a cab. I looked here and there making myself aware of the surroundings when my eyes fell on a heart-wrenching sight just twenty feet behind me. The man and the small boy it seemed had not noticed me as of yet. The small boy, around four, was clutching desperately to the older man's leg who was kicking him away like a stray puppy.

"Please, Uncle. I will be good. Please don't abandon me. Its so cold here." The boy began to cry desperately. It was then I noticed that he wore only a short sleeve baggy shirt with an equally baggy pants. The man slapped the boy hard across his face and screamed, "I am not you Uncle, you stupid freak! I won't tolerate your presence in my house anymore!"

Then it struck me. This man was abandoning his own nephew to the streets of London. It sickened me, I watched as the boy again tried to please his uncle and the man tiring of the boy's antics began to kick him mercilessly, screaming obscenities. The boy wailed in pain and tried to run away. But his uncle grabbed him by the hair and slapped him hard, again, and again. I shook myself awake, and called the cops here on 4th street behind Pizzeria dumpster. And then my social worker side kicked in and I shouted,

"Hey! What the hell do you think you are doing!" the man seemed frozen, his hand raised in mid-air. I didn't want to look at the child knowing I would loose my anger if I stared into the pain-filled bright eyes. I concentrate on the man. "How dare you hit a child!"

"This is none of your concern, madam! Leave me and my nephew alone, if you so please"

"In fact, I do not so please. What you are doing is in fact against the law- of humanity and England's to be precise. And so I would appreciate it if you would give me your name so as to report it to the concerned authorities."

The man perturbed by the fact that a woman was in fact threatening him, raised himself to his full height, all 5 feet and 8inches of lard for a body and claimed, "I do not appreciate any _woman_ threatening me. I put them in their place." Saying this he advanced upon me. Seeing the opportunity of male chauvinist weakness, I pulled back my hand and smacked it across his face. Surprised at this he fell slightly to the side. I punched him in his crotch, and slammed my knee up into his keeled over face. I heard a crack that rang a cord of satisfaction in me as his nose broke. He fell to the side cradling his head in his hands. "Stay down," I warned him, "The cops will be here any second." Knowing he was down and not likely to step up any time soon, I looked at the boy.

He was a small midget, around four or five. He had messy black hair that covered up most of his forehead and eyes. He was crouching in the corner, his eyes upon me. He looked like a deer, watching his predator from afar, knowing its doom. But I was no predator.

"Child," I called softly, "Come here, sweetie. I won't hurt you." He seemed motivated as he removed his hands from his body let them hang limp across his sides." That's it, sweetie. It's okay. You are safe. I am here now." He moved his eyes to the huge form of his uncle who was still trying to wipe away the bloody from his bleeding nose. "No, child. He won't hurt you. I won't let him. You are safe." His tense shoulders sagged in relief as he rushed over to me and hugged me. I hugged him back fervently. It was then that I heard the sirens. Pulling the not-so-surprisingly light boy into my arms, I walked out from inside the alley and towards the awaiting cops.

"Are you the madam that called us here?" I nodded. I gestured towards the alley. "There is a man back there. He was abandoning his own nephew to the streets and was beating him mercilessly." I took out the child from my arms to let the paramedics look at his injuries. He screamed as they came near and held my legs, as if trying to be invisible behind them. "Shush, child," I said, "They won't hurt you. They will help you heal your injuries." I let my finger graze his cut eyebrow. "I will be right here, no one will hurt you." The boy looked into my eyes, as if searching for the truth in them. Finding them honest, he nodded and let the doctors prod him.

I looked towards the alley. The cops were dragging out the bruised man. I smirked at his condition as he was stuffed inside the car. He started screaming about a law suit against the cops. Good, the more he yells, the stronger it makes my case. One of the cops came towards me and said, "My name is Inspector Roy. Ma'am, I am afraid we will need to do some questioning about the incident." I nodded. The cops them looked down to the little boy and said, "Kid, how often did your uncle hit you?" The boy looked stricken and ready to flee. I grabbed the boy from behind and turned my gaze angrily at the cop,

"Don't you know how to be a little sensitive? Can't you see he is terrified and exhausted. Let the kid rest today. Question me all you like. I am the eye witness."

"Ma'am we will need to take this to the station to record your testimony and account of the incident. Both your accounts." I nodded my head again, "But I'll still need you names."

"Sarayu. Sarayu Khan."

He nodded and looked towards the kid who mumbled out, "Harry Potter."


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

Disclaimer:- I don't own any HP characters

**Chapter 1: Day at the Police Station**

Oh God! I was ready to fall asleep in this rather uncomfortable chair. It had been such a long day. I looked at my watch and groaned, "3 am!" Jeez. I looked around and saw the little boy, 'Harry', I reminded myself had already fallen asleep quite comfortably on the wooden sofa thing behind me. It made me cringe at the thought of what his actual bed might be like if he though this was comfortable. The police had interrogated me for hours, four to be precise. What happened? What did you see? Are you sure? What was the time? Blah! Blah! Blah! They wanted to wake up Harry and question him but I refused and asked them to wait till the morning. The paramedics reports on malnutrition, physical abuse and neglect, and my account on the abandonment were enough to keep that awful man in jail for the night. Harry's would wait until he woke.

I walked over from my chair and sat on the sofa behind me, taking Harry's little head on my lap to make the child more comfortable. I stroked his hair lovingly and smiled. Why would anyone want to harm children when just looking at their sweet and innocent faces brings a smile to your eye? It then I noticed a strange zig-zag scar on his forehead, a knife cut it seemed. I gritted my teeth. That Dursley. I would put him behind bars for the rest of his life. How dare he?! Settling into my uncomfortable thoughts, I didn't even notice when I got washed away into dreamland.

* * *

'_You're my Honeybunch, Sugarplum_

_Pumpy-umpy-umpkin, You're my Sweetie Pie_

_You're my Cuppycake, Gumdrop_

_Snoogums-Boogums, You're the Apple of my Eye-'_

What the hell? Who was singing that god-awful song so early in the morning? I groaned and opened my eyes when I realized that all the eyes of the room were on me. I blushed and recognized my cell phone alarm tone, changed courtesy of my dear husband. Shit! The alarm. Seven am! I had to be at work in two hours. I looked around and saw Harry munching on a bagel next to the inspector ('Inspector Roy,' I reminded myself. I was horrendous with names!) who had brought us in the day before, rather that morning. I shook my head lightly to clear up the jumble in my mind. It was too early to be up. I reached into my coat pocket and pulled up a stick of gum. Always be prepared! I rushed over to both of them and asked if there was ay progress on the case.

"He will be called to court tomorrow afternoon 2pm, and we will need your presence there as well for evidence. You are after all the eye witness. Here. Please keep my card and contact me if you need anything. In the meantime the kid will be placed with a foster family. If the trial proceeds as expected, then Harry will be taken out of the care of his relatives permanently and placed in a state-owned and run orphanage," Roy informed me.

"Is it alright if I leave now? I am late for work." He nodded in agreement but a tiny voice spoke that nearly broke my heart.

"You are leaving me?" I looked at Harry. His small bright emerald eyes were wide with worry and his bottom lip was trembling slightly. I shook my head, trying to make him understand.

"No child. I will make sure you are alright. I just need to go to work. But I'll be back." This time he shook his head and replied,

"It's okay. I understand." He mumbled something and I bent down to catch his words, "No one wants a freak. I'm bad luck I know." I was shocked. What had those relatives of his done to this poor boy? I took his head in my hands and raised it upwards, so that I could stare into his eyes.

"Listen to me, Harry. No child is bad luck. Children are angels sent down to fill our hearts with joy. They are a blessing. You are a blessing and don't you let anyone tell you differently. You are God's favorite child. Never loose faith in those words." Saying this I kissed his forehead, right on his scar. "I will be back to see you in the evening. Inspector Roy here will place you in a nice family so don't be scared, ok? I'll come to check up on you." He nodded in agreement. Squeezing his hands, one last time, I smiled reassuringly as I walked out of the police station.

* * *

"Sara….where were you? The presentation starts in twenty minutes….and why do you look like a truck ran you over?" my colleague Natasha asked me, completely panicked, as usual. Did the saying 'Take a Chill Pill' suddenly vanish into thin air? I would roll my eyes had I not been used to this for the past four years? I reached for a cup of coffee from the vending machine. Nothing like caffeine to rouse you awake on such a weird day.

"Don't ask 'Tash. What a night!" I said remembering the fear and hope in the child's eyes. I couldn't get his face out of my head. I almost smiled at the thought.

"_Why_ are you acting so goofy?" Trust 'Tasha to be the most fun-sucker out there. Maybe I haven't explained my work. I work as a social worker in India- Manager of Rural Development. I had come to London with 'Tasha and my other colleague Ali to set up a venture with some organizations here. This was my last presentation here and we had not received any approval so far. My flight left tomorrow night at nine, I entered the bathroom with 'Tasha in tow. I started arranging my hair, put one some kohl, and some deodorant. That night at the station really took a tow. "Sara, are you going to answer any time soon?" I huffed and explained to her- walking back to the hotel, finding Harry and his uncle, the station. "So you had an exciting night. But tomorrow's trial? Are you sure you'll be able to make it back in time for the flight?" she asked as we both entered the conference rooms. I shrugged and mouthed 'hopefully' as I sat down among the rest of my team members. Yes, hopefully everything will work out for the better, I thought remembering Harry.

_Note:-__ I know its coming out a bit slowly. Sorry about that but I think it's going to be more about family rather than adventuring. I'll see as the story evolves. Feel free to give any suggestions on how the story should come about. _


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 3:-

Chapter 3:-

_The Previous Day_-- _Hogwarts__-- Different Point of View_

The ringing in Albus Dumbledore's mind would not stop. It seemed like something was wrong, somewhere. 'How incredibly precise, Albus,' the headmaster scolded himself, 'No wonder people call you crazy.' Was something wrong at Hogwarts? Were the Slytherins and Gryffindors fighting again in some random corridor? He asked the sentient Hogwarts spirit and the answer was negative. So, nothing it seemed was wrong at Hogwarts. Then what was bothering him. A few wards, and secrecy spells were indeed triggered towards him, maybe something was wrong there?

He went into his office, and opened a drawer in the cabinet, beneath the portrait of Phineaus Nigellus, one of the previous headmasters of Hogwarts. In there was a dusty box of sorts. It was a squarish looking thing, and seemed like a chess board. He opened the box. Inside the box, placed in random sports, there were several miniature people. To the common man they may seem like a child's puzzle and play set. But to Albus Dumbeldore, they meant his hold on the wards of many locations. And indeed there was a red glow in on of the pieces. It seemed like a miniature piece of a baby. The baby was emitting a red glow, and was sobbing and crying. This shocked the headmaster and in his mind only one thought rang- 'Number 4, Privet Drive. Harry Potter.'

Acting quickly Albus threw a handful of Floo powder in the fireplace and shouted for his most trusted friend, "Minerva!"

"Minerva, I must ask you a grand favor."

"This time of night, Albus."

"I think Harry may be in trouble."

"Harry, Harry Potter?"

Dumbeldore nodded in resignation.

"I warned you about those muggles, Albus. Now what is wrong?"

"It seems they have not returned home for more than twelve hours, i.e. at least Harry has not returned home, which maybe even worse."

"Couldn't they have gone on a family trip or something? Isn't that a possibility?" Upon looking at the face of her colleague which still looked guilt-ridden, she quickly added, "but do not worry. Albus, whatever the matter is, I shall figure it out."

--

Minerva stopped at the door of Number 4, Privet Drive. She needed to use her wand to locate Harry's essence, and then possibly use the locator spell to possibly find where Harry was at the present moment. Using the locator spell, may not be as easy as people think. Firstly, it applies only to the people who are under wards, like kids in a warded/secret household and all that. Secondly, only trusted people under the wards or in this case under Harry's house wards could use the locator spell, Albus and herself being keyed into the wards. Maybe later it would be extended to others, but considering both Albus and Minerva had been there, leaving the boy at this doorstep, they were the only ones trusted enough by the wards and by each other in this time of darkness, to allow each other access to such important information.

Minerva began to move her wand in swishes and flicks, and started reciting spells in Latin to be allowed to access Harry's essence. Soon enough, her wand began reacting and jerked forwards towards the garden, near the rose bushes. So that's where the boy had been last. She looked below on the ground near the roses and noticed some red paint. Upon closer inspection, she saw that it was blood. Harry's blood. Not a lot of it, just enough. She gulped back a choke and hoped to her gods that it was just a prick in the rose bushes. Nonetheless she collected the same, actually it was more like, she waved her wand over it and stored it in the wand itself. Then murmuring the locator charm, she allowed herself to envision the location where the boy was presently situated and apparated herself accordingly.

--

It seemed like she had apparated at the scene of a crime. Seeing the seriousness of the situation and her wish to remain as inconspicuous as possible, Minerva immediately transformed herself into a tabby cat. She peered out from behind the dumpster that she had landed near and looked on at the scene. The policemen (yes, she did follow the muggle world as well) were escorting a rather beefy man into one of their kar things. He was bleeding rather profusely from the nose. He looked familiar somehow, but this was not the time to ponder those things. She needed to find Harry Potter and if her locator charm had not gone wrong, the boy was to found at this very crime scene. The thought scared her immensely.

She looked around and found a little boy who could fit the description of the boy hero. Messy black hair, little guy around five or so. Keeping her cat form, Minerva darted forward and ran to the little guy. While she was running she then noticed he was clutching to a young woman like a lifeline. Minerva crept underneath the nearest car, well within ear and eye range and listened intently to the conversation. She heard 'paramedics' 'hurt' 'abuse' 'questions' and 'police station'. She crossed her fingers, paws, and desperately hoped that she worst fears about the boy had not come true. But then she looked at the boy. Muddy, torn clothes, tear tracks on the face, clutching onto another woman that he probably did not know before this. She seethed inside. 'I had warned, Albus,' Minerva thought, 'they are the worst sort of muggles imaginable.' She remembered where she had seen the man; it was Harry Potter's uncle who she had observed that well-known day of October 31st, 1981. She followed the woman and the boy as they walked and sat in one of the police cars. She placed a tracking charm on the vehicle and a few minutes later apparated to the station.

She saw the woman. How she protected the little boy as if she was her own. How she laid his head in her lap, stroked his hair until they both were in a peaceful slumber. This was the kind of family she had always imagined for the little boy. Albus's intentions were right. The boy needed not to be arrogant of his heritage, and become a hero but his relatives? They were the worst kind in both worlds. Even worse would probably be, to be raised by Severus! Now what did she tell her most trusted colleague and friend? Maybe she should let this play out. She placed a tracking and monitoring charm on the woman, to see what she had planned out for Harry. And hopefully, she looked at the little boy, everything will work out for you in the end, Harry Potter.

--

Minerva apparated to Hogsmeade and took one of the carriages back to Hogwarts. She knew that Albus would most probably catch her lie if she told one. If she didn't he would send obliviate everyone there and send Harry back to his relatives. She sent a prayer up to her gods to give her the courage to lie to her best friend for everyone's betterment. The carriages halted near the entrance hall and Minerva got out. She strode quickly to the headmaster's office not to delay the meeting further. She knew Albus would not sleep until he knew Harry was safe and sound. And even though Albus was one of the most powerful wizards in the world, he was also one of the oldest. She worried about him and his workload a lot sometimes. He had many times taken to call her 'Mother Minerva' for which he had received a pink beard for week.

"Fizzing Whisbies."

The gargoyle guarding the office stepped aside and revealed a revolving staircase. Minerva got on and found herself at the base of Albus's office. She knocked on the door and went inside. Albus was in there, pacing. He did that a lot. When he looked at her, relief swept through his face and he rushed forward to greet her and ask her of the news.

"He is fine, Albus. The entire family has gone on a vacation. You know how chilly it is during this time of the year. I asked their neighbours, and yes I obliviated them afterwards. They have gone to the Bahamas. Left just this morning actually. A three week vacation, maybe more," Minerva gushed forward with her explanation.

It seemed that Albus bought it. His shoulders sagged in relief, but then he broke out in angry whispers, "But I told Petunia, she was not to step outside the wards for more than twelve hours. What was she thinking? What is something happens to the boy?"

"Albus. Calm down. It has been five years since the Dark Lord fell. Even most of the Death Eaters and their dark activity have been quiet. It will do the family some good. It will give them a chance to bond as a family. Plus, no one other than the two of us know that the boy is not under constant ward protection. It will be okay. I will go to check Privet Drive frequently for anything suspicious. Alright? Just calm down."

"I suppose you are right, Minerva. I just worry. Thank you for this favor. Goodnight." With this the Deputy Headmistress and the Headmaster retired to their respective bed chambers, each filled with relief.

--

--

--

--

Sara's POV

It was 7pm when I was freed from the presentation. 'We will get back to you Mrs. Khan'. Was that a key phrase among all the organizations here or did they all follow the 'Keep them aloof and scared of you until you make up your mind' theory of human personnel management. Personally this psychological nonsense was getting on my last nerves. Letting out a huff of fatigue I turned to my two colleagues and said, "Listen guys, I have to go. I have some important things to finish up."

"Anything to do with your little boy?" teased Ali. My little boy, huh? I liked the sound of that. Actually I had always loved kids, other people's kids really, who once they became a nuisance could always be returned to their parents. My husband and I had never really discussed the subject; we had just been married for 3 years so I suppose we wanted more of an 'us' time rather than a commitment with a child. I hadn't complained either. I am not one of those traditional sensationalized Indian women seen on soap operas who go to temples and pray for a child, whining, crying, and whom I feel like smacking upside the head. Family and commitment were still important to me, but seriously dramatics have got to end on Indian television! But when Harry came into my life, not to sound too much like a drama queen, but, something changed.

Maybe it was the way he ran and embraced me in the alley, and I could feel his heart beating so ferociously, mimicking his terror from his uncle. And then slowly as the terror began to loosen its hold on Harry, his heart rate steadied. Then slowly but surely I could actually his heart and mine, beat as one, like music. I cringed, 'that was way too sappy, Sara,' I scolded myself.

--

I handed the taxi driver his appropriate money and thanked him for dropping me here. The car rental place seriously needed a makeover. The building looked like it was going to fall apart, with cracks in the wall, and water dripping from the ceiling. Water? I looked outside, it was raining. Curse London weather! One minute its sun shine and daisies, and the next cats and dogs are drenching you like its Holi festival. Actually, you probably have no idea what Holi is. It's a festival in India where everyone gets to soak each other in ice cold water and colors- really like a holy water/paint fight. I am sure it has very important cultural significance, but ask any kid on the street who is throwing the colors and paints around in the air about the festival, and he would give you the exact same explanation written above. So where was I? Right! London weather. Thank god I was returning back to India where I know if its cold, it's like staying in an ice-tray and when it's hot, you melt- unless you are used to it. I was loosing my mind. I picked out my phone from my purse and the card that Inspector Roy had given me, and dialed his cell phone.

Explaining to him my need to see Harry and the promise I had made him, when I _knew_ that he had seen the events that had occurred in the morning at the station made me a bit mad. But protocol no matter how exhausting and infinite eye-rolls worthy had to be followed. And of course he had to speak to me like he was doing me a favor and I should therefore be his humble servant for three lifetimes. In his exact words he said, "It seems that England's law is above you, Mrs. Khan. But considering the fact that I am an extremely nice person by nature and should be worshipped in a shrine, I shall indeed give you the address. 64 Barkley Drive." Okay, I may have changed the words around a little bit, that was how they were filtered into my ears. Fine, now all that is needed is a car. Somehow I felt that even though the day was ending, something was going to happen, and I needed to be mobile. Throughout the day my heart had been beating faster, and at times I was gasping for breath. I was very nervous. And when that happened it meant, something bad was going to occur. Don't believe me and my psychic abilities? I have proof. The last time this nervousness happened, my phone was stolen right out of my bag. It was a pretty little thing too with lots of crystal charms hanging from a string. Anyway, now I am a woman on a mission. I need to rent out a car, cheap car, and go see Harry in his foster home. And bloody hell it was still raining!

--

Renting a car in London has to be damn near impossible it seems. Not that there isn't a variety offered,but why do they have skyrocketed prices? Oh yes, my Indian genes and my frugalness are very prominent in me and show up when I last need them. Here I am, haggling and arguing over the car prices, when I should actually be visiting the kid. Finally we both settle for 104 pounds. Seriously, dude, inflation is a killer! Get it under control government! Taking the car keys and waddling through the puddles of rainwater, I match the license plate number of the car to that on the keychain. A groan leaves my mouth. That woman tricked me! 104 pounds and all I get is a lousy Beetle? It's like the smallest car in parking lot. I push in the keys and get in the car. I fed the address into the GPS and got ready to start the journey. I crossed my fingers and cast a prayer, this nervousness was getting worse. I seriously hope nothing is wrong with Harry. With a deep breathe in and out, I push on the accelerator.

_Note:- Dun, dun, dun. What will happen next? Any suggestions? Actually I have something in mind to write down, but it hasn't fully developed. Any input would be appreciated. _

_Is the story evolving okay? I think that Minerva and Albus will have a minor part in the first part of the story. Just until Harry's adoption. Then new set of characters and new magic and all that jazz will come out. _


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 4:- Rescue Mission

This rain was getting on my last nerves. Don't get me wrong I love the rain, you know the normal kind, like we have in India. Not like this London weather where it rains to annoy the hell out of you. It was so hard to navigate even with a GPS in such terrible weather conditions. The GPS said to turn right at Barkley Drive which was in another 100 yards. I had been following this particular direction for the last ten minutes! Where was this stupid Barkley Dri- oh, was that it? Never mind, I _just_ missed it.

I looked back to check whether anyone was coming. Seeing the coast clear, I reverse the car. That's right I just violated the law. I am soooo bad. God, I'm such a nerd! Now if I could just find the house- ahah! I turned into 64 Barkley Drive driveway and parked the Beetle. Inspector Roy had said their names to be the Fosters- Beth and John. They were supposed to be excellent people, having handled seven foster children before Harry, but a bit orthodox in their lifestyle. Roy had not elaborated further. As long as they took care of Harry, they were alright in my book.

I got out from the car and ran to their front door. I looked at myself and realized that a distance of twenty feet, and I had been soaked to the bone. I probably looked like a wet cat dragging herself into this posh house. I shuddered. This rain certainly brought about a chill in the air. I held the coat closer to myself as I rang the doorbell and then waited for it to be answered. Realizing that I probably was not looking my best, I tried to arrange my tangled black hair and wring out as much water from my clothes as I could. When the door opened I saw a kindly woman looking out. She had short blonde hair, and was quite short and pudgy looking.

"Hello, ma'am. My name is Sarayu Khan, I was sent by Inspector Roy to check up on the case." The woman looked terrified for an instance and quickly grabbed my hand and pulled me into the house. She shut the door behind her and called for her husband. I wondered what had gotten her so worried. Shrugging it off, I looked at the house. The entrance was in such a way that I could from the front entrance see a lobby which ended at the kitchen. In the kitchen there was a big glass door whose blinds had not yet been shut. I guessed it led to the back garden. I peered through my rainwater soaked spectacles and vaguely saw a black figure in the garden. They must have a dog. But what was the dumb dog doing lying there in the rain. The door to the back porch was slightly open and the area had a little puddle of water. I thought about telling them this but my musings were cut short with the arrival of the husband. He quickly introduced himself and told me,

"Thank you for coming so quickly, we just called Inspector Roy. I guess he must have sent you." I opened my mouth to tell him that there must have been a mistake, and that I was coming here to check up on Harry when his wife interrupted me.

"Just take it away from us! It's the devil incarnate!" I seriously now got worried about the mental health of this woman. I looked at both her and the man and saw that they were both frightened out of their wits.

"Ma'am, there must be a misunderstanding. I am here to check up on a little boy named Harry. I understand he is under your care until the trial."

"Yes! Yes! Take it away from us." The feeling of dread was back in my system. swallowed heavily and squeezed my eyes shut. In a quiet and timid voice that didn't seem to be my own I asked, "Where is Harry?"

"We have tied it up and put it in the backyard!" My eyes snapped open. Suddenly I realized the mystery of the dumb dog. There was no dog; that was Harry! On its own accord my throat opened and let out a terrible scream, "HARRY!"

I guess the child must have heard me through the open back door, because as I rushed towards the garden, I saw the black lump move and then fall to the ground. I opened the door, and let myself through it. I rushed over to the shivering boy. I held his face in my hands and gasped. The boy's lips were nearly turning blue due to the cold. It was a miracle that the child was not dead yet. It seemed that time spent with his Uncle, had seriously toughened him up. Thank the Lord. But it pained me to think what the child could possibly have gone through to make him so tough. Tears spilled out from my eyes and I grabbed the boy in a hug. I rubbed his back as rapidly as I could, trying to generate some heat. But I was myself soaking and getting cold that I couldn't hope to do anything for the boy. I turned my head and glared at the couple in the house. They were watching us as if it was unnatural for someone to hug another.

I gathered the boy in my arms and picked him up. I walked back into the house. Despite their shouts of disagreement I set boy nearest to the burning fireplace. As if the child hadn't been through enough, they dared to abuse him even further. I am not a saint. I would not go from here without my revenge. Oh no! When I got angry I got destructive. I grabbed the most expensive fleece blanket that I could see lying there on their couch, and began to clean up Harry. I massaged his head and tried to get the water out of him. Poor kid, lying there for probably more than half an hour. The woman rushed forward to stop me and I shouted, "Sit your fucking ass down, you bitch!" Let me tell you that this should be an indication that I was pissed. I _never _insult strangers. I have an unconditional need to please people. But now I have an unconditional need to kill this couple.

"You don't understand what you are holding! It's evil! I beg of you, step away before it corrupts you!" the woman pleaded.

"How dare you?! He is just a boy. He deserves love, not hatred!"

"My wife is right. He is unnatural. He made the glass of milk move across the table with his mind!"

"Stop trying to make up stories. That is impossible. And _stop_ trying to blame him for your mist-" I was interrupted as the doorbell rang. The woman rushed to open the door and I heard voices. Familiar voices. "Inspector Roy?" I cried out. And indeed it was his familiar face that came out from the hallway.

"Mrs. Khan. What seems to be the problem?"

"What kind of care have you placed this boy into? You promised me that Harry would be taken care of till his trial. This care facility of yours seems highly inadequate. These _people,_ if you can call them that, insist the boy is evil and unnatural! _They_ dare to say this. The very same people, who kept him outside for god knows how long, in the pouring rain till I came along and found him. Look at him, the boy is blue and probably suffering from pneumonia!" I ranted out the story to the inspector and noted that someone was typing out whatever I said and taking pictures of Harry. I looked at the boy who seemed even shyer than before. He was lying on the rug curled up into a ball, trying to take as much heat from the fireplace as he could without getting burnt. I rubbed his back in comforting circles. He looked at me with those eyes, devoid of hope and tear tracks running down them. I sat down on the rug beside him, gathered him up into arms and rocked him gently back and forth, all the while singing a prayer into his little ear.

I turned my eyes towards the Inspector and saw that he was questioning the couple, both of whom who were furiously pointing at Harry. I held the boy closer to myself and kissed his messy black mane. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Inspector Roy come up to us. He crouched down low and said, "Harry. Child, I need to talk to you." When Harry turned his head to look at him, he continued, "Harry, did you make something happen at the dinner table today?" I opened my mouth to shout at the man who dared to accuse Harry of such a preposterous thing, but he warned me off with a look and said, "Mrs. Khan, these people have fostered seven other kids before Harry and we have never received word of complaint. We must investigate this before we can accuse them of anything."

"Inspector Roy. Even if their allegation against Harry was correct, that he is _indeed_ telekinetic, that does not excuse their despicable behavior. They left a child outside in 2 degree Celsius weather, in nothing but a shirt and a pant, to die. Whether this accusation or not, it changes nothing of the situation whatsoever. I hope you realize that."

Roy seemed to hesitate for a moment, but he turned his attention back to Harry, "Harry, did you, or did you not make something happen at the dinner table tonight?"

The child seemed to hesitate for a moment, before tears fell and he spoke very urgently, "I don't know what happened. I don't know. I didn't….I swear. I am not a freak! Please."

"That doesn't really tell us anything Harry. I am asking for a straight answer."

"And what do you want him to say," I interjected, "that 'yes, sir. I made that happen and therefore I _forgive_ an attempt on my life?!' Please, Inspector," I held up my hand, "I think that is enough questioning the boy. Fact is- foster parents are meant to care for the child, not kill him. Therefore considering this evidence, which is _relevant_ to the case, I would advise you to arrest these people as soon as possible and give them their due punishment."

--

So, we were back at the police station, just like the night before. Don't tell me I have to spend the night sleeping on that wooden couch again. What am I paying the hotel for, safekeeping my suitcase? I sighed. I suppose I could still endure the wooden couch, but fact is that Harry hadn't spoken a word to me since I had "rescued" him from the Fosters. Was he scared, still mad at me? I didn't know, but he had clung on to me from the house to the station. Even now, he was sleeping in my lap, his arms curled around my body and his head lying right above my heart. I could barely try to understand what the boy must be feeling at the moment. Even I felt so shattered inside. I had promised this boy all the care and protection in the world but in turn he had received absolutely nothing. What I really needed was, to curl up next to my- _tring tring_ (my cell phone rang, and I checked the caller ID)- husband.

I smiled. It's true what people say about soul mates, I suppose. That even when you think of them thousands of miles away, they know exactly what you are doing, and what you want at that moment. I sniffed, and a tear slipped out from my eye. I turned on the phone.

"Hi, _jaan_." (translates literally hello, my life)

"Sara, baby, is something wrong? You sound upset."

I sniffed and laughed, "No, love. Everything is fine. I was just desperately missing you." I won't bore you with our love talks; that is after all private between my husband and me, but I did talk to him about Harry telling him that he is an abused boy and his upcoming trial. "Love, I don't know if I will be able to make the flight for tomorrow. There is the trial and the fact that now I desperately need to find Harry, _personally_, a good home to take him in."

"Baby, you take as long as you need, just not too long, okay? My convention here in Australia ends in another two weeks. So try to make it before then? I love you. I miss you."

"I love you too, Im." Knowing he must be tired getting off his duty then, for it must be around 3:30 in the morning there, I quickly ask him to rest up and then put down the phone. My husband, Imtiaz (Im-teh-ah-zuh) is a doctor, a surgeon really. He works with Apollo, a huge hospital back home. At the moment he had gone for a surgeon's convention or something in Melbourne. He was due to be back, one day before my birthday that is—November 22nd. I think he planned that. I try not to be too sappy about my love life, but I really think what the hell I would do if he wasn't with me. Bloody hell, sleep must be driving me insane! I gather up Harry into my arms and approach Roy. I ask him permission to take Harry back to my hotel, and surprisingly to my knowledge he agrees. I give him my contact details and he proceeds to get in touch with me tomorrow morning regarding Harry and the trial. I take Harry with me to the parking lot and get into the Beetle. The rain has stopped now. I get into the car and adjust Harry in the back seat so that he is sleeping comfortably. I sit down on the driver's seat and push the key in. I looked back to reverse and get ready to take both of us home.

-

_Minerva's Point of View_

The tracking spell that I had placed on the woman, what was her name again, Sara or something, indicated to me that something was wrong. I was just getting ready for bed when I felt the pain going through my system, altering me to this danger. I quickly shot out of bed, and put on my black teaching robe. I went into my office and quickly Flooed Albus, who was still up dealing with his papers and such. I never understood why a great and powerful wizard like Albus would willingly take up a desk job. It was one of the things that I had never grasped about Albus. I told him that I needed to immediately visit one of my nieces in London due to her rapidly failing health, and he, being a darling, acquiesced to my request. First time in my life, I thanked god for my overgrown family, and the endless nieces and nephews. Now you can certainly understand why I never took a husband.

But now is not the time to talk about my mother's and sisters' failure to use contraception. It was time to understand what was up with the woman and Harry. I quickly walked down from my quarters to the outer gates of Hogwarts and apparated to the police station that I had tracked them to.

--

I landed in the parking lot of the police station, and when noticed some cops trying to see what the disturbance was, I quickly transformed into my cat form, Tabby. It was pouring outside, so instead of trying to seem like a cat dragged in, I ran towards the gates of the station. It seemed there was some sort of an incident going on there. The parking lot included three cars that were flashing and making a lot of noise. Muggles! Out of one of the cars I saw the woman, Sara I reminded myself getting out with a child in her arms that I recognized as Harry. Police station? Again? I almost smiled, just like his father. Could never stay out of trouble. But I just hope that it was not to terrible whatever happened. Then I observed that out of another police car, one couple was getting out, handcuffed. The woman was a pudgy looking thing, kindly with short blonde hair. The man, was half bald brunette, a bit taller than his wife but not overly so, maybe around 5'6 or so. But fact was that they were handcuffed and Harry it seemed like was the victim around here. Something was going on here and it was definitely not good. I crept inside the police station, and recognized that all of them were proceeding towards the Inspector that had handled their case the previous night. I ran towards his desk and planted myself right next to one of the legs of the desk, and listened.

First, the couple came. They talked about what had happened at the dinner table with Harry. My eyes widened with shock, they had witnessed Harry's accidental magic! Why had the magic cleaning committee not come to Harry's rescue? Then, I thought maybe that Harry had been under Albus's wards for so long it maybe that his accidental magical signature had never registered with the ministry. After all, it is officially registered after children receive their wands and get admitted into various schools. That would mean that magic had been exposed, and to the worst sort of people too. They called Harry freak, evil, Satan spawn, and other cruel words that disgusted me to the core. I peered out of the corner of my eye and saw Harry curled up against Sara, seeking her warmth and comfort. She was rocking and singing to the child. Out of her own eyes, tears dripping onto Harry's hair. I turned my attention back to the conversation at hand. It seemed the couple had left Harry out during the pouring rain, and he had nearly died. I prayed that his magic had helped him survive through the cold, aiding him in his needful time. Soon enough the couple were reprimanded and put in jail for attempted murder. A case had been started up against them. I smiled in satisfaction.

Then I observed the conversation between Sara and the Inspector. It seemed that Harry's trial against the Dursleys was tomorrow. That meant I needed to keep a check on things before then. And I had no doubt that considering how tormented Harry had felt at the Dursleys he would have indeed released his accidental magic. Now with this couple complaining of Harry's magic, it might just strengthen the Dursley's case or worse expose magic. I needed to handle this situation very delicately. That meant that I would need to skip out tomorrow's lessons. I decided to wait till tomorrow morning and then send a Patronus out to Albus to have someone cover my lessons. It paid off to be organized, I had kept the lesson plan for the day on my desk in the classroom.

Meanwhile, I watched Sara and Harry- truly they looked like mother and son- wander out into the parking lot. She was taking him back with her till the trial. Yes, she would take good care of him. Meanwhile I needed to figure out things with this trial. If magic got out into the world, lord knows what the Ministry will do to the Boy-Who-Lived. So I went off into the ladies room and transformed back into Professor Minerva McGonagall. I took some toilet paper and transfigured it into important documents, more importantly into my permit to argue in a Muggle court. My lawyer's permit. I transfigured my clothes into a professional business suit and pulled my hair up into a tight bun. Ready with everything, I walked out from the room and upto the Inspector.

I held out my hand, "Inspector Roy, I presume." At his nod, I went on further, "My name is Kate Pricely. I wish to handle the child abuse case of a certain Mr. Harry James Potter. I was a friend of his parent's and wish him to be placed into a good home." When he didn't seem convinced, let just say I was not averse to using my wand to persuade the smart fellow.

Tomorrow's trial would indeed be a magical revelation. It's a wonder how much truth you can get out of a person by forcing a bottle of Veratiserum down their throats. Knockturn Alley, here I come.

-

_Sara's POV_

I stopped the car right at the parking lot of the Washington Hotel. I got out and opened the back door. Harry was still sleeping soundly. Poor boy, what a trying day he had had tonight. What a trying life. I gathered him up into my arms, and adjusted him until his head was resting on my left shoulder and his legs were curled around my waist. I wrapped my hand around his torso to keep him from falling and with my free hand locked the car. I walked into the hotel and smiled a quiet hello to the doorman. People at the reception did look at me funny. Probably wondering how and where had I gotten a child from. I paid them no heed and walked to my room. I thanked my gods that I had chosen a room on the lobby. No matter how light Harry was, I could not keep this up all day. I unlocked the door and walked inside the room.

Harry looked like an angel while sleeping and I couldn't bear to wake him up. But I was sure the poor boy had not had any food, and he really needed the medicine to keep him from getting a cold. I decided to let him sleep in until I made something for him. I laid him down on the Queen bed and entered the kitchen. Let's see what did I buy from the superstore. Heavy ready to eat Indian food- no, I couldn't give him something that heavy- bread- yes that would do nicely- soup that I accidentally bought- yes, that would be nice and refreshing. Soup and bread would be quite filling for the boy, and wouldn't overly stress his stomach. I poured the soup mix in the pan and added the water. I started preparing the hot tomato soup while I toasted the bread in another pan. Meanwhile I rang the reception and asked them to send in medicines for fever and some vitamins.

The soup was done. I poured it slowly into the bowl, and took the bread out from the pan, and put it on a plate. I set it out on the small dining table provided in the suite, and walked towards the bedroom. I shook Harry lightly on the shoulder and said, "Sweetie, you need to eat something and take your medicines. You can get very sick like this, love." Harry nodded and rubbed his eyes. I escorted him towards the dining table. I nodded towards the soup and the bread. "You can't have anything very heavy, sweetie. And the soup will be very enriching and filling. So eat up. You might find it hard to swallow the bread so try to soak the bread in the soup before you eat it. Like this." I guided the tomato soap soaked bread towards his mouth and let him take a bite. Suddenly the suite's bell rang. I let Harry take charge of his food, and warned him to eat it slowly and carefully. He took my advice into mind as he slowly sipped the soup, and ate the bread. I went to the door and collected the medicines from the attendee. I tipped him adequately, and went to fetch some water for Harry and myself to swallow the medicines.

After Harry had had his fill of food, and taken his medicine, I guided him towards the bed again, and laid him down. I fluffed up the pillows and set them under his head. "Rest up, love. You have a very hard day in front of you tomorrow." At his inquisitive look I said, "The trial, sweetie. We filed a case against your aunt and uncle for child abuse. They are going to be charged for all the bad things that they did to you. They won't get away with the horrible treatment that they gave you all these years."

"Please don't. They told me that if I ever complained to anyone they would kill me! Please, don't!"

"Child, you do not need to be afraid of your aunt and uncle any longer. We have enough evidence against them; they can never ever harm you now. They wouldn't dare. Otherwise I will be on those pigs' tails!" Both Harry and I giggled. Apparently both Harry and I agreed that Vernon could not possibly belong to the human race. The tense environment had suddenly turned light.

-

The alarm rang. I woke up instantly and shut down the alarm. I had set it up half an hour early so that I could get dressed and then get Harry ready. My flight left this afternoon at _**3pm**_ so I had no office this morning. I guess it was pure luck now that I could help out Harry and then maybe get him adopted or put in a good care facility before my flight. My need to fulfill impossible tasks never seemed to end. I had already wasted three minutes in my mind drivel. I searched a new pair of clothes that I could easily maneuver in and look formal enough for the trial. I searched through my suitcase when my eyes fell on the traditional and elegant Indian dress I had brought along with me, just in case. It was a _Salwar Kameez_ set. For those of you who have absolutely no idea what the hell I am talking about, let me describe you the garments. It is basically a long shirt and a harem pants. The shirt is a three-quarter sleeved maroon silk that grazed my knees. The neck was collared but it was a V-neck all the same. The pants were black silk harem pants- those pants that had legs looking like two balloons. I grabbed the set and my towel and rushed into the shower.

Nothing to rouse you up like a good hot shower. Most people said this. It just drove me even more sleepy than normal. I need my dose of caffeine and music in the morning to recover my dulled senses. I needed to make some breakfast for Harry and me in the morning. But before that I needed Harry to wake up and get ready. But that reminded me, Harry had absolutely no new clothes here. I suppose I needed to buy him a new pair before the trial today. But did I really need to wake the little angel so soon? What time was the trial anyway? At the right time, the phone rang- it was Inspector Roy. I quickly took the call as I saw Harry stirring in his sleep.

"Yes, Inspector. What can I do for you?" I moved into the kitchen and began rummaging for things to eat during breakfast.

"Mrs. Khan, I just needed you to inform you that the trial will take place today on eleven a.m. at Municipal Law Court on L Street. You should arrive with the boy at ten thirty a.m. so that we can meet with your public prosecutor, Ms. Pricley. Mister Dursley will be accompanied by his defender, Mr. Smithson. I went through his files and his statements as of now, and it seems that like the Fosters, he too complains the boy was in some form unnatural. Could do unusual things. I would advice you to be careful and explain to the boy to be careful around such questions. Statements given by two families could seriously endanger the boy, not just his trial, but also his life."

I looked back at Harry. The little boy sleeping there looked like an angel. He could do unnatural things? Had telekinesis? What was he? Whatever he was, wherever he had come from, I knew in my heart that he was going to change my life today.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 5:- The Trial

**Chapter 4:- The Foolproof Plan of Minerva McGonagall**

It was nine by the time both Harry and I were ready to leave the hotel room. I needed to first buy some new pairs of clothes for Harry and get him ready for the trial. So we both got into the car and drove to the nearest shopping place I could find.

It seems I was more excited than Harry when I looked at all the cute little things kids wore these days. The most adorable pair of T-shirts and overalls. I picked up some clothes, okay maybe not some, more like a truckload and took them to Harry who wrinkled his nose in disgust at the amount of clothes he had to try on. I smiled at his expressions. Maybe it was not too late for him, seeing as how he was reacting like a typical five year old boy to shopping. But when he grew older, I could just see him primping himself in front of the mirror to impress his classmate. And I would scold him and tell him of this time when he resented shopping…..wait….what? I would be there with him? Had I grown so attached to this child that I would take him in….a family? I grew muddled in my thoughts, confused. I took in a deep breath. That thought…it scared me and pleased me at the same time. I didn't…..

"Sara?" a curious voice called out to me. I looked down and saw Harry in a new pair of clothes—an orange T-shirt and light blue overalls with a same colored jacket on top. I bent down and pinched his cheeks and told him he looked like a cutie pie. Both his cheeks sprouted bright red splotches and he ran back into the trial room to try on something new.

--

Half an hour later, armed with four pairs of new clothes and a well-dressed kid on my side I started off for the police station. The ride was painfully short as I remembered that with the end of the trial, my services to take of Harry would no longer be required. Somehow now I wanted to run away with the kid so that I would not have to face the risk of him coming to harm any more. Who was I kidding? It was rather so I would not have to be separated from him any more than necessary. Now the cheerful Sara was gone, and in her place there was a 'woe is me' Sara whom everyone hated. My face hung low, and I shut my eyes. I had the sudden urge to eat some prunes—my comfort food. When I become depressed I go on a freak health craving. So prunes and oranges. I wanted them soooo badly.

But nonetheless trying to gather up my courage and remembering the fact that Harry's abusers needed to be brought to justice before anything regarding his custody was decided, I entered the station and guided both of us towards Inspector Roy's desk. It was then I noticed that a woman was sitting on one of the chairs. She looked around mid 40s. She was a rather plain and stern looking woman. The only distinguishing feature about her was her tight bun mounted on top of her brown hair. It had been stretched so much I winced in pain for the poor hair. Man, she must shed a lot of hair. She was examining some documents and muttering lowly to herself. They both had not noticed as of yet to their new company. I cleared my throat to attract their attention and it had the desired affect.

The woman turned around in a flash. It seemed her reflexes were very good even in her age, as she responded so agilely to the "intrusion". Then she relaxed and turned her attention to Harry. It must have been a flash of my imagination but I could have sworn I saw recognition in her eyes. Not just 'oh yes, you are the stranger I saw yesterday' sort of recognition, but more like 'I am your father, Luke' sort of recognition. And not just that particular glint but her eyes moistened. But as soon as it had come it left her eyes. In the professional manner befitting all….professionals for the lack of a better word, she turned to me and said, "Mrs. Khan. My name is Kate Pricely. I am your public prosector."

--

_Minerva's POV__ - earlier that day_

Not wanting to be spotted on my endeavors to save Harry Potter, it was imperative I wander into an unsuspecting apothecary. And so I had wandered into Knockturn Alley—_Menga's Potions and Herbs- _disguised, of course, to collect some important and very useful potions to aid in the trial. Conversing late with the Inspector had taken its toll and therefore I had to ingest two bottles of Pepper-Up Potion. I bought various other potions from the store, mainly a very illegal bottle of Veratiserum, a Felix Felicis (for myself because frankly I had no idea what I was doing acting like a lawyer when I had absolutely no clue about Muggle Laws and Customs), the Delay Draught (which extended and delayed the effects of a potion, very useful when trying to poison someone, not that I had ever tried it), and four vials of Persuasion Draught (it enhances and exaggerates one's inner feelings and brings them to the fore, but cannot fabricate new feelings which is why it was one of the barely legal potions I had purchased).

The plan was pretty simple. Feed the Dursleys the Veratiserum mixed with the Delay Draught, feed the jury the Persuasion Draught, and feed myself the Felix Felicis. The simpler the plan, the more likely- hopefully, it was to work. The complicated ones were just a bi jumble were everyone forgot what role they were supposed to play. So mine was short and simple and foolproof.

While I was down in Knockturn, I sent an owl off to Albus to inform him of the current situation with my "niece", Diana, and the fact that I needed someone to take over my classes for a week so that I could sit here and take care of her. I mentioned Diana because Albus had known her and she was very prone to get ill, and Albus knew this little fact very well. If he ever had to, he would not doubt my story now. There was also the fact that Diana when she was little had taken a fancy to Albus and would not leave him alone (serenading him in love letters), a fact that she carried forward to her later years, and I was sure Albus would try to avoid her at all costs.

I reached the police station right on time, all ready to implement my plan into success. I saw the Dursleys—what pigs. The man, Vernon or something, was sitting in the chair while his wife, Petunia, cried like a banshee at his fate. It was amazing to even think that this woman used to be Lily Potter's sister. The contrast itself was so vast that I decided it was better to think of them as two separate people and never one family. I fed both of them the Veratiserum and the Delay Draught into their respective water cups and watched them consume it hurriedly. And the way the man ate his food, one would think he had not been fed for the past year or so. But then, I thought looking him up and down, it should not surprise me considering the man looked like he was about to birth a blue whale any day now. But happy that the first step had been completed, I settled back in the chair across from the Inspector and began to inspect my fake documents.

It was then when I was formally introduced to Sarayu Khan. She looked a bit mellowed down and depressed. When pressing a little into her thoughts, Albus had rubbed off on me, I found the reason for her current depression. Ah, she feared being separated from the boy. She would indeed be the perfect candidate for taking the role of Harry's new mother. Maybe I should _persuade_ her a little bit. Grinning along with my inner Slytherin, I asked her if she wanted a drink and then fetched it from the water cooler, pouring half a vial of the Draught into it before I took it back to the recipient.

"Harry," Roy started the conversation, "this here is Miss Kate. She is going to prove to the judges that your Aunt and Uncle are mean people and that you need a good family to go into. She was also a friend of your parents." Knowing that he had caught the little boy's attention, he continued, "You need to tell her about all the mean things they did to you so that she can make sure they never do anything of that sort to anyone else." Harry nodded his little head. I took him into the corner and pulled up a chair and started conversing with him, telling at first him about his parents.

"Did you know Harry, I knew your parents since they were eleven. They were the most brilliant students in my scho…their school. Your father, James, used to be the Head Boy and was the most mischievous kid in the school. He landed himself in so many detentions because his pranks. And your mother Lily, she used to be the Head Girl and was the kindest person in the school. She loved…"

"No, ma'am," Harry interrupted my account of his parents, "You are mistaken. My parents could not be so nice. They were drunks who died in a car crash." I gasped out with shock. A car crash?! What had the Dursleys been teaching this child?

"No, no. Child, your parents didn't die in a car crash!"

"Then how did they die? Why did they not come to save me?" His eyes were searching mine for the truth. But how could I tell this innocent baby that his parents had been murdered by the most evil man to wander this Earth? How could I taint his innocence thus? Did anything give me the right to do that? My silence it seemed spoke millions for the child. Who nodded his head and spoke words years older than himself, "I thought so, ma'am. Now can we get back to the case, please? They used to hit me…" And so Harry spoke his recollection while I pondered how I could have let James and Lily's son suffer thus at the hands of his relatives. I would not stand for it any longer. If I had anything to do with it, he would be out of the Dursley's care by the end of the day.

-

_Sara's POV_

Time flew by and the trial loomed ever closer. The feelings within me grew more and more pronounced of taking Harry away from all the hurt that he had been feeling throughout his life. I had talked with Miss Pricely about what I needed to say during the trial, the eyewitness account of the failed abandonment. She said that she had something planned, and I probably would not need to even testify in the court. She said something about the conscience of the Dursleys getting the better of them, and them attesting to their crimes. This comment made me raise an eyebrow and wonder if the woman was going senile, but she seemed quite sure of herself and so I kept silent. I wanted the best for Harry, and justice against the Dursleys and if this woman could offer me that then who was I to complain?

We took the police car to the court and got out to see that the Dursleys were getting out of another police car with their public prosecutor. The man having taken notice of Harry , glared at him and stared spewing out insults at the child. I took Harry and pulled him behind me, shielding him from the view. Kate and Roy had already gone ahead up the steps and into our scheduled court room. Good, better that she was not here to stop me from threatening him. I flexed my already tightened fist and gestured at Vernon Dursley. When he took half a step back, I sneered at him and taking Harry's hand in my own, we both – accompanied by a couple of police officers- walked up the steps of the Municipal Court.

-

_Minerva's POV_

Everything was put in place, the clean glasses had been infested with the clear Persuasion Draught, so when they put water in their glasses it would dissolve with the potion and they would ingest it. Yup, most definitely a foolproof plan. Upon seeing the door open, I settled down quickly. It was the Inspector leading the victim and the witness into the courtroom. Behind them was the defendant- the Dursleys and their prosecutor. Accompanying them was their witnesses, the Fosters. It seems I needed to be careful and use my wand wherever necessary to erase any possible exposure of magic. That I think would be their most important and possibly valid argument. Pity, what would they do if they forgot that little detail while the case was going on. I fingered my wand, ready to use it at a moment's notice. As the judges assembled, I grinned. Let the games begin.

-

Well, that was a relatively short trial. Only forty-three minutes and twenty nine seconds. I would have thought the Dursleys and their prosecutor to last longer. But one could hardly resist the affects of the Veratiserum. It was not known as the most potent truth serum in the world for nothing you know. It was hard for the prosecutor to argue further when his own client cried out, "I did it! I whipped him, beat him, starved him, and would have abandoned him to the streets if it weren't for that tramp over there!" let's just say his further deplorable behavior against the judges and his abusive language highly potenized the Persuasion Draught in the judges' drinks. Funny how that worked out.

When the Dursley's prosecutor tried to plead insanity due to the treatment at the police station, then Vernon's testimony was further strengthened by the presence of the medical records of Harry James Potter the first day at the police station when the paramedics examined him. It agreed with severe malnutrition, bruises and cuts on the body, lashes, and a strange scar on the forehead which seemed like it was a knife cut. Vernon was charged with seven years in prison while Petunia was charged with three years. In the meantime their son, Dudley (seriously who named their kid that) was to be kept with his Aunt Marge. It was then that the interesting turn of events took place.

As soon as the judges announced their verdict, it seemed that tension had relieved off of the boy, who started sobbing with happiness. Sara embraced him like a mother, and kissed his head repeatedly, telling him that this was real and not a dream. That he was free from the torment subjected to him for years by his family. But then the judges decided to announce that Harry would be placed in a state-run orphanage and cared for especially well. Any family planning to adopt him would need to be checked more thoroughly than any other child because he was the most special child. It seemed the Persuasion Draught was more the potent, thank Merlin.

"I will do it," Sara said standing up. She halted the departure of the jury there as well as the audience, "I will adopt Harry James Potter. I will give him my name and family. He will not step foot in any orphanage."

--

_Author's Note:__- To whoever asked-- Dumbledore did not place Harry with any family who could give him love and support because of the wards. As long as Harry called the Dursley's home he would be safe inside the wards and the Death Eaters could not attack him. Minerva knows this. But she also knows that Sarayu is an Indian, and therefore if Harry goes with her they would shift countries and any risk of an attack on his person would be lessened. _

_I would like to remind everyone that Sara, though she is under the effects of the potion, the feelings of taking Harry home and taking him in as a son are not fabricated through magic. They are just enhanced for the purpose of speeding up the process and getting Harry out of the country before Dumbledore catches Minerva behind all this. And for me not to write a lot of details. I am really bad at that. _

_So let me know what you think of it so far. Too slow? Developing well? Are the characters okay? Any suggestions to what Sara can do to act more mother-like. And any suggestions on what happens in an adoption process. I have to research and then put it down._


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:- The Adoption Process

**Chapter 5:- Adoption, the Long Process PART I **

_Sara's POV_

Everything was happening so fast, I didn't even have time to think before Kate started shoving papers under my nose, asking for signatures left and right. She did everything so quickly, started making all the arrangements, collecting documents related to Harry that even the Dursleys swore they didn't know where they all were. And even greater term in prison was added to the Dursleys as it was determined that they had not legally adopted Harry, just -it seemed- kidnapped him. Petunia said he was pushed under their care by some crazy old man after the Potters got themselves "blown up". But her statements did not hold any merit for the judges who regarded her testimonials about an old man who apparently looked like Santa Claus with disbelief. Those idiots didn't even have Harry's birth certificate! Kate made every document it seemed appear out of thin air. When asked for a particular document she would go on a bathroom break and within ten-fifteen minutes generate said document out of her coat pocket. I wonder if she made them magically appear out of thin air, but then would shake my head and wander back into the real world.

Sometimes I wondered whether I was doing the right thing. Yes, adopting an orphan child who needed all the love and care in the world was the right thing to do. But would I be able to treat him as my own child and not as an outsider? When Imitiaz and I decided to start a family tomorrow, would I differentiate between my child and Harry? If I did, then did I have the right to take Harry home if I could not put him on the same pedestal as my blood? And was I ready to be a mother? I could barely get myself ready in time to leave for office and now the added responsibility of a child? _Responsibility, not a burden_, came the instant reply. True, but sometimes I would hesitate before signing the documents, but then I would look at the boy, remember how he hugged me and said, "Thank you. I love you….mom." and I would melt.

I knew I could definitely offer this child I better lifestyle than he had previously been in, but then again the Dursleys weren't exactly model parents. Care under them was nothing to boast about. Look how they had treated their own child, with so much love and care that doctors had declared the young child could be diabetic, and if his eating habits continued, then have a heart problem later in life. _No_, I said to myself with resolve, _this train of thought could not be allowed to continue. Harry would be my child, my blood, a part of my soul. He would call me 'Ma' and Im 'Papa', and we in turn would declare him our eldest son, our heir. No one could argue with that, no one in society had the right to stop my love for Harry. Never again would he step foot into an abusive environment. I would shield him, love him, comfort him, support him, and all that jazz that came with being a mother._

The thought thrilled me. Was I ready to be a mother? Yes, came the immediate reply. I already was a mother the day Harry called me 'mom'. The day I decided to rescue him from the Vernon-monster I already became a mother-figure to him. And if I failed him now, at this point, he would not forgive me, would not forgive himself for trusting me. And I would not allow all that innocent and endless trust to be broken. A smile graced my face- mother- that was a nice feeling.

But suddenly the thought and the smile vanished. How could I have been so selfish? I was ready to be a mother, but was Imtiaz ready to be a father. How could I have not thought about my husband while I was taking this decision? What was I thinking announcing such a life-altering verdict for our family when I forgot the most important part of that family, the part that now had to play dad. _You are being silly_, said the voice in my head- that voice that told me to go out, break boundaries, and date Imtiaz. I trusted that voice, it had made my life. _Imtiaz trusts you and in turn trusts all the decisions you make. True, this is a very important decision for both of us, but then why not call him and ask his opinion. _True, on such important topics, our eyes mostly saw the same thing. He knew my line of work, supported me in whatever I did, should this time seriously be any different? And besides I had told him about Harry before, and he had asked me to stay and help out the child. No, he would not take it too harshly. But suddenly I did feel very guilty about this decision. I took out my phone and dialed the number on the calling card. I should talk to him about this.

As luck would have it the line was busy, and suddenly I was distracted by the appearance of Kate who looked quite drained. The woman had been working non-stop for the past three days. She looked in a hurry to get the case over with. Why, I did not understand. Wasn't it the lawyer's job to prolong the case as long as they could so they could extort money? But considering she was a public prosecutor, I assumed she did not get a lot of money for her line of work.

"Sara, I have arranged for all of Harry's documents to be filed and now I need yours. I asked you to arrange for the documents to be brought in from India. Is that done yet?"

"Yes, I asked my mother to go in and collect the documents. I wasn't sure exactly what you wanted so I well brought whatever I thought appropriate." I brought out a folder at this point from my shoulder bag. "Here are the copies of my husband and my birth certificates, our marriage certificate, bank balance sheets, health records, employment records, passport copies, and last but not least our tax reports."

Kate nodded in agreement, "I think that should suffice. But if I need anything else I will let you know. We need to arrange for Harry to be turned into an Indian citizen and no longer a ward of the British state. Therefore we will need to visit the Indian Embassy. We need to then submit requests for an Indian passport, and I think all that needs to happen and finish up by the end of the week." End of the week? Was she going mad? It took people months to try to adopt a baby, and she was taking in mere days? That was impossible. How the hell was she going to achieve all this? As if reading my mind, she replied to my query, "How to make the impossible possible, Sarayu? Well that's simple….magic, my dear, magic." She grinned, giving the impression of a Cheshire cat and continued further, "Further on, I think you should change Harry's name, to maybe something a bit more appropriate? Something from your community?"

"Well, that is entirely up to Harry to decide. Changing a name is not a simple thing, it is the change of an identity, an identity he has acknowledged himself by for the past five years. I will not force him into anything."

"It would be simpler to change his name, my dear. It would make everything much more safe….and harder to track." She mumbled out the last part, but I was close enough to discern what she was trying to say. But I couldn't understand her concerns and was happy when she let the topic go. "Now I have set an appointment up for you with Doctor Reiss who will make sure your health is up to date, and you are fit enough to take care of the boy. I think your husband's employment records and health records should be enough proof of his health till date. Now you must be prompt for your appointment at 3pm this afternoon, and Harry's is right afterwards at 4pm. He must also be diagnosed by the state before I submit applications at the Indian Embassy. Now I have things to do and get ready before I schedule an appointment with the person in charge of international adoptions. And before that we need to talk and go over some very important things. So, if it is alright with you, I shall visit you tomorrow morning in your hotel suite, let's say eleven am?" I agreed to this and started to get myself and Harry ready to leave for the scheduled health appointments which were in another…fifty-three minutes? What the hell was the woman thinking booking them so early and telling me so late? Was I a magician who waved my wand and everything got ready in a jiffy? Jeez….I scrambled here and there for my shoes, for Harry's clean new pants, and started to get ready. Yay, motherhood.

--

The woman doctor, Dr. Reiss, was actually a very nice woman, quite cooperative. At first I saw her and thought that she would be a stern, mean old lady, but she turned out to be very agreeable. She took one look at my husband's and my health records and said that they were quite up to date, but "You know the British ministry, dear. They don't trust anything not signed under their own country. My signature is just a formality." True, the developed countries tended not to trust the products of developing countries a lot. I agreed with them, there was a lot of corruption in India- forged records and signatures, but it still did not stop me from being annoyed at all the red tape. Hey, I'm human. So while Harry sat outside the office, looking at all the magazines and the toys there, I sat in a stuffy old room wearing a paper gown, and having my body examined. Great, just what I needed to rouse me up.

Then I was asked some questions about my family's health record. Does anyone in your immediate family have a history of ailments? Is anyone diabetic? Any heart conditions? Any case of AIDS in the family? Polio? Blah.blah, blah. No, non, zilch, nahi, however you said it, nothing important really pertained to my family.

After half and hour, the entire examination was done and I was declared medically fit to care of a child. Even my husband's records were signed and the fact that he was not there in person to attest to his records seemed to be no deterrent which surprised me at the flexibility of the system. Then it came Harry's turn for the examination. I knew he was going to be quite nervous to be in the same room as an unknown lady. So, I requested her to let me stay in the room and get him comfortable enough for examination. Calling Harry in was the easy task. Telling him that his body was going to be examined made him quite nervous, visibly nervous. His body went rigid and folded his arms across his chest in an effort to go unnoticed. I bent down on my knees, behind him, and started rubbing his upper arms gently. Trying to generate some heat, that is always a great comfort. And as expected, his back relaxed and he became more supple, eventually letting his folded arms fall down and beside his sides. So I turned him around and asked him to face me, "Harry, you know why we are conducting this physical test? To make completely sure that you are a healthy boy. To make sure that what the Dursleys did to your body, making it weak and small can be changed and rectified before it is too late. Moreover, sweetie, this test makes sure that you are healthy enough to sit on an airplane and come back home to India with me, your new mother and to your new family- your father, your grandparents, your cousins. You would like that wouldn't you?" Seeing him nod slightly, I continued, "And so sweetie, I need you to go to Dr. Reiss and let her check up on you. You don't need to be scared. I am going to be here in this room and holding your hand through it all. Is that okay with you?" He smiled at me and turned to Dr. Reiss. His smile conveyed that he was ready for his check up and ready to go to his new home with me.

The check up was done fine. But then came the hard part, or so I would think. Vaccinations. As I child, I had always detested them, not the poke, but sometimes the needle would move, intentionally or otherwise, and it would hurt like a bi--. But it turned out Harry was quite braver than me at that age, or had endured worse things that vaccinations for he did not squeak or even fidget as the needle came closer and poked into his arms. It turned out the child had missed out on all his vaccines, thank the Dursleys for that, and had to go through a lot of rounds. I would scream, but he did not. So, I gritted my own teeth and squeaked for him while he and Dr. Reiss turned to me amused at my antics. What, I'm a mother now. I have the right to squeak at my child's pain all I want.

And so many vaccines, and Harry had to go for next rounds in India, one every month. Let's see, what did his records say:

DTP-DTaP:- dose 1 given, remaining 4

DT-Td:-

Polio:- dose 1 given, remaining 4

Hib:-

Hep B:- dose 1 given, remaining 4

MMR:- dose 1 given, remaining 1

MEASLES:-

MUMPS:-

RUBELLA:-

Bloody hell, did so many vaccines even exist? Did I get so many pokes in my body when I was little child? Did he really need his DT-Td thing? What was the full form anyway? Did doctors even know or did they just poke? I, therefore, was in full support of Eastern medical science, homeopathy or Ayurveda, thank you very much. Not that I understood Ayurveda very well, mixing up of herbs and making potions and other concoctions, and voila! We have a cure for cancer! No, no that extreme, but still avoid Western medicine while you can. Science is a threat to humanity. Philosophy, sniff sniff. I am on my way to become the next Aristotle.

But something new did actually evolve out of the check up. It turned out that Harry needed glasses to see. He admitted he needed to squint in order to see things far away. This problem, he had said, had started two months ago. When he tried to tell his relatives, they thought he was just trying to gain attention from them. Dr. Reiss told me that he needed glasses straight away, otherwise he might become as blind as a bat. So first things first, we needed to go to an optician.

--

It was five by the time both of the physical examination finished and our quest for spectacles started. It was quite easy to walk down the streets of London and find an optician, but seriously did Harry really need these…Versace glasses? I handed them back to the woman behind the counter and told her, "We need something for a child." Seeing her protest, I hotly said, "We need something cheap, woman! I ain't got so much money to waste on designer glasses. Cheap, local brands, inexpensive, easy on the pocket. Take your pick!" Finally she got me something within our budget, a black rectangular frame that suited Harry quite well. He seemed to agree to this and we picked it out, and purchased it. We were told to come back in an hour to pick up the powered glasses. Therefore I decided some relaxation was in order. Plus, I was craving for some Ice-cream. So both Harry and I walked down the streets of London and started looking for an ice-cream parlor to _carefully_ spend our money in.

After finding a pretty big one, we both walked inside. There were pictures of cows everywhere, and the wall sported a white and black patchwork paint. The entire place looked like a cow blew up in there. But Harry was squealing with delight. I ruffled his hair and smiled down at him. His scar became visible, and I cringed. The Dursleys. They brought out such bad memories and feelings within me. But at the moment I could not dwell on anything because Harry was dragging me to the counter where a billion flavors were available to choose from. The man behind the counter, Delagus, turned to me and said, "Welcome to Dairy Queen. Can I interest you in a delicious smoothie?" I grinned up at him. Seriously, it must be tiring to ask that question over and over again to each and every customer. I shook my head.

"No, thank you. I will have an ice-cream cone, one single scoop of…" I looked around at the flavors- mint, strawberry, thyme, sage, vanilla, and dark chocolate, "Belgium Dark Chocolate. And sweetie, what would you like to have?" Harry pointed to the yellow colored ice-cream- butterscotch. At this point, the man behind the counter turned his attention to Harry. I saw his eyes flicker to his forehead and he jumped back in surprise.

"Ha…Harry Potter!! I am honored." Say what? One of my eyebrows automatically shot up into my hairline. "The ice-cream is on the house! Take as much as you want!" He put a double scoop on both of our cones and bowed low to Harry and me.

Harry curled up against my side and said, "Sara, is he crazy?" I giggled at his statement, but Harry just looked horrified. He quickly picked a table as far away from the cash counter as possible and sat down, licking his ice-cream along the way. He had picked a table with an amateur drawing of the world map, easy for the little children to understand. "Crazy or not, this ice-cream is yummy!" He grinned, showing off his pearly whites. It was then I noticed that my son had formed a very bright yellow mustache. I pinched his cheeks and sat down next to him to eat my dark ice-cream. But I looked back at the counter and saw that the man was still staring at us, smiling and waving his hands at us. Okay, definitely a creep. "Sara…"a hand was waving across my face, I jumped back, "Are you okay?" I nodded at Harry. "I wanted to ask you something," he mumbled out.

"Of course, _bache _(bah-che, meaning child). You don't have to be scared to ask me anything."

"Thanks, at the Dursleys I was forbidden to ask anything. Otherwise I got a beating from my uncle or aunt. They would hit me on the back with a frying pan."

"Well, that phase in your life is long gone. Now you are coming home with me."

"That's what I wanted to ask. Where is your home? Who lives there? Will I really have a dad? And grandparents?" the questions came out of him fast and excited. The thought of family, one that we all took for granted in our lives, excited and made this boy so happy. It sometimes made me feel guilty for taking my parents for granted when I was a child. Always assuming they were going to be there, and never thanking them for all that they did for me. I suppose every normal child took their parents for granted too, and now I would teach Harry to start taking me and Im for granted. Yup, I was going to spoil him. But for now I needed to answer his questions.

"Well sweetie, have you ever seen the world map?" He shook his head. I pointed at our table, at the world map drawing, "This is where we are right now. In England where you live. I came to England for work purposes but I actually live…here." I pointed to India on the map.

Harry squinted his eyes and said, "That's not very far."

I laughed out at his comment. "No, sweetie, the difference is shown to be very small here. But it is actually a very, very big difference. Around 7000 miles away approximately. India is a different country. Like England is a country, India is a country, France is a country. You see. So, you will now live in a new country with me and my family. We both will take a plane ride around 8hours and reach India."

"Will it hurt?"

"Well, it may be a little strange at first to sit in a plane. But you will get used to it. You will fly in the sky and get to see the clouds outside, and see what England looks like from 3000 feet above in the air. Now, I must tell you that India is very different from England. It's going to be a very different place to live in." At his inquisitive look, "You will see. I have no idea how to describe my own homeland. It will be better if it is your own personal experience."

"And who is in your family?" And so I told him about my family, my husband Imtiaz- a doctor at Apollo hospital (quite a fancy place really), his new grandparents (my mum, a teacher and my dad, a marketing manager), my brother and his wife and their two twin terrors. Harry seemed so excited to meet his new family, a new life away from here.

--

At night when we retuned to the hotel room, we decided to rent a movie to watch while we had dinner. Harry admitted to the fact that he had not been allowed to watch the TV at the Dursleys while it seemed Dudley slogged his entire time in front of the television. He said he would sometimes open his cupboard door and peer out at the TV shows. Once he had been caught, and given a beating. Then the next day a lock had been placed in his cupboard, so that it would not open without the Dursleys' intervention. "Well, Harry," I tried to tell him, "too much TV is also bad for you. From what you tell me, Dudley could develop problems later on in life because he watched too much TV. So you want to be careful and not end up like that."

He agreed with my advice and, "plus," he said, "I don't want to end up looking like Dudley, pig in a wig." True, from what I had glimpsed of their son in the courtroom, Dudley did look like that, but no son of mine was going to speak of others like that.

I shook my head and said, "Harry, you must understand something. The road to hell was paved with good intentions. Do you know what it means? No? It means that Petunia and Vernon wanted to coddle and spoil their son so much, love him so much that they actually ended up doing him a lot of harm." Seeing his confused expression, I quickly continued, "They fed him all he wanted, all the ice-creamand chocolates he asked for, but what did the judge say yesterday about Dudley…do you remember?"

"Something about die-a-beat and heart problem…"

"Diabetes, sweetie. It's a very serious problem child. It means that Dudley can never have so much sugar, and chocolates, and ice-cream again without it being very bad for his body. And Dudley could have grown so fat that he actually might have a heart problem later in life. And that means that he can never play sports like normal kids, run like them without it again being very bad for his body. And if the Dursleys kept on spoiling Dudley, he might one day become a bully and fail his classes, do other really bad things that would get him in a lot of trouble. And therefore Harry, you must not speak bad of Dudley anymore because he, in his own way, suffered as much as you did. Do you understand now?" He nodded, quietly. _It did make some sense_, Harry thought. "And for that matter, you must not speak bad of anyone, especially not behind their back. It's not fair to them and you destroy your own character." _Okay_, Harry thought, _I did not understand that_. Reading his mind (motherly intuition, it's in ;) ), I replied, "You will understand once you start going to school. In the meantime, let's start our movie. Which one do you want to see- Aladdin, Shrek, 101 Dalmatians..." and we spent the rest of the night in a quiet bonding time through television. Yup, we are indeed lazy bones.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 5:- The Adoption Process

**Chapter 5:- Adoption, the Long Process PART II**

_Sara's POV_

The next morning, it seemed the week's stress had finally taken its toll. Both Harry and I slept through the alarm. But hey, it was Saturday and I was allowed to be all lazy and well…more lazy. I was groggy when I woke up. Did the sun really have to shine so brightly on a Saturday no less? I grunted in discomfort and tried to curl up to my side where I encountered another small body. It seemed Harry wanted to sleep his entire tiredness away here. Poor guy, probably never had had such a peaceful sleep, undisturbed by his aunt and uncle's rants and taunts ever in his life. He did deserve it, but I didn't want him to get in the habit of sleeping his time away. I looked at the cell phone clock- 9:37a.m. Hmm…quite a bit late. I turned to my side and slipped out of the comforters. Grabbing my clothes, I stepped into the shower.

As the water poured onto my body, some sense of awareness and consciousness did slip in. First things first, I needed to decide how to proceed further with Harry. It was quite a complicated matter. Firstly from what I could infer from Kate's discussions with me, though many a times it seemed to me that she was talking to herself, trying to convince herself rather than me, the adoption process should be completed by today. She was coming here in another hour and a half, so before that mostly I needed to be ready. I think we had another appointment today. But, it really had surprised me how easy and simple this process was. I had always thought that it would be long and tiresome. I had heard it took months—six months for some to adopt a child. But they had all done that through agencies and organizations. Maybe directly shouting out in a courtroom was different? But wasn't the government supposed to work slower than these private organizations. Or did Kate have anything to do with the speed? I don't know how I would feel if she had bribed officials. I would be happy getting Harry so quickly but bribing… But what exactly would Kate get bribing everyone….she probably got such sad salaries anyway. So I shook that thought and water from my body as I stepped out of the shower.

As I dried myself off, I thought, it would be November end by the time we got home and schools opened in April. So in the remaining time I supposed bonding for the family. It was good timing anyway, I doubted that Harry would want to be away from me and Im after gaining a mother and father so quickly. It would take some time to grow bored, eh…hopefully. You know, kids these days. But the main concern I suppose was firstly Harry's lack of Hindi, which hopefully should not be such a huge hindrance considering the rapid Westernization and English-ization taking place in India. Then it was the family's reaction. It wasn't that both Im and I came from orthodox families, no our families were quite liberal but adoption was not looked at very pleasantly in the society in general. I stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed and walked up to Harry who was still sleeping soundly. I shook him awake and asked him to take a quick shower. He jumped up, smiling, at once at my words. Smiling…I cringed. I got a hyper morning boy. I gulped, no sugar for him for a loooong time.

By the time I gathered the dirty and unorganized room together Harry had already stepped out of the shower, all dressed in his new clothes. He grinned so cheerfully, one would think he had not been through a near-death incident nearly two days ago. It was a miracle the child had not suffered from pneumonia or worse. It made me think twice about the statements made by the Fosters and the Dursleys- freak. But freak or _farishta-_ angel? That's what I had second thoughts about. But whatever or whoever he was, first he was a five-year old boy.

"Sara, what are we having for breakfast?"

I bent down to the little boy's level and said, "I don't know, Harry. Let us see what's in the fridge and select something. Do you want me to help me make something to eat?" The boy proceeded to rapidly nod his head and tell me all the things Aunt Petunia made him cook on our way to the small attached kitchen. We finally picked out some milk, bananas and honey to prepare a banana shake which without the use of a blender, wasn't the best idea I had thought of, but Harry seemed to find it, in his language 'deli-shus'. In addition to this we decided to go on a health fest and have a varied fruit ensemble for breakfast. Harry especially liked the apples and the oranges.

As we ate the prepared feast, the doorbell rang and outside stood Kate ready to begin the day with her files and legal mumbo-jumbo. The surprise must have shown on my face for she rolled her eyes and replied, "We were supposed to meet at eleven, remember? I suppose I am seven minutes and…" she flipped open her pocket watch, "24 seconds early. But really Sara…" What was it about this woman that made me feel like a little student getting a detention after something terribly naughty? I grinned sheepishly and welcomed her inside. Whoops!

"Now we have another appointment today with Mrs. Laura Marshall-Grover. She is a stern woman, so not going to be impressed with a happy-go-lucky attitude. You have to provide her with hard-core proof that you and your husband are ready to take care of Harry, a child is a great responsibility."

"Well, actually I haven't had a chance to talk this over with my husband yet. So, I cannot exactly respond in that area…hehe," I chuckled hesitantly avoiding looking at her face for fear of seeing that horrified expression that I was sure was going to be etched onto her features.

"Not discussed this with your husba… please tell me you are kidding. Actually don't. What the hell, Sara? This is the most important decision that you both will take in your entire lifetime. Call him right now." I hesitated, "NOW!" Alright, no need to shout. Heard you the first time. I took out my cell phone and dialed the number. Upon reaching his cell-phone, I felt nervous. What exactly would he say? I couldn't back out on my decision of adopting Harry now. No time to think now as the phone was picked up.

"Hello?" A female voice? Say what? Husband….you are in trouble, mister!

"Hello. Can I talk to Dr. Imtiaz Khan please?"

"Sara. Hello this is Rina." Ah the secretary, and worse part she's pretty too. And taller than me, but I suppose everyone is- me, stuck at a measly 5'1. Stupid woman with her 5'9, 36-24-36 figure and big grey eyes. "Imtiaz is in a surgery right now. Can I take a message?" She was NOT allowed to call my husband with his first name!

"Just tell _Dr.Khan_ to call me back as soon as possible, thanks." I canceled the call and turned to Kate, "He's busy."

"Are you sure he will be willing to take in Harry? I don't want your house turning into another Dursley household when Harry is involved." I rapidly shook my head. That happened over my dead body. "Good, because otherwise I would be forced to hunt you down and kill you." She looked so serious at this point I didn't know whether to laugh or pray to all hundred of my gods. "Now she will want both you and me in the room when she looks over your records, so be as honest and strong in your conviction to adopt Harry as possible. Don't worry about the questions concerning your husband, I shall handle those. Now she will also be interviewing Harry to see whether he has liked your care or not, and would he like to continue living under your care or someone else's. So you will need to make him aware and ready of this." I looked over at Harry who was busy chomping on his breakfast, and thought that the kid's confidence had improved rapidly by a few days under my care. I didn't know whether to feel proud or take cover at the forthcoming 5year old kiddiness and energy. Any suggestions?

--

The office of Mrs. Laura Marshall-Grover was a stuffy old place, seeming more like a detention centre for delinquents than an adoption agency. But I supposed that's what Kate meant by stern old lady. And the chairs reminded me of that wooden sofa in the police station, so uncomfortable and unyielding to any comfort. The three of us stood up when the old woman entered the room. She introduced herself and each of us gave our introduction. She pulled out some files and I did the same with mine, the bank balance reports, the income tax files, the passport copies.

"Mrs.Khan, where did you meet Harry and when did you decide to adopt the little guy?" I told her of the story of that night when I was returning from the office, Harry and Vernon, the night at the police station. I told her of the attachment I felt for the boy at which point Harry visibly blushed and covered his face with his hands. I told her of the scene in the courtroom when the barrier preventing my emotions from coming forth broke and I brought them all to the fore. "It says here that you and your husband have been married for the past two and a half-years. Did you and your husband plan to have any kids before you decided to adopt Harry?"

"Well, we both are very financially stable. My husband is a doctor and I am a manager at an NGO in India. We didn't plan any kids right now, but we haven't exactly been opposed to the idea. We are very attached to my niece and nephew. But yes, Harry will be our first borne and we will consider him the eldest son and heir of the family." She seemed to catch onto the point that we hadn't planned to adopt Harry and opened her mouth to speak, when a sudden change took over facial features and she relaxed back into the chair, an unnerving smile gracing her features. She moved onto the next question.

"You are aware that Harry here is a practicing- I think- Christian. And your last name states you to be a Muslim. Will you be changing his religion when you reach back to you country?"

"Actually, the last name is my husband's who is a Pathan- a Muslim. But I have not yet converted, nor do I plan on. I am still a Hindu and have been since birth. My husband and I celebrate both festivals- be it Id, Ramazan, Diwali, Holi, etc. Therefore we will be very open to giving Harry free reign on whether or not he wants to convert. His last name will change however because many a times the authorities create a problem if the last name of the child is not the same as the last name of the parents."

"Do you have any definite plans on where you plan to school him?"

"No, not deifinite plans. But the school that I went to from primary to senior secondary was one of the best in the city- New Delhi. So, he could go there- Sanskriti School. It is a private school and caters to the urban upper middle class, and attracts a very good crowd. And for his lack of Hindi knowledge, that should be alright because he will start first grade only and the language will be quite easy to pick up."

And so went on the interview, lasting for an hour. Whenever she seemed to ask me a question on my husband, her eyes would glaze over and she would settle back completely sometimes forgetting that she even asked me the question. I thought this very suspicious but what was I to tell everyone happened, magic? They would laugh at me and blame my overly active imagination. In the middle of the interview, my phone rang, I turned to switch it off and saw that it was my husband's. Why was it that whenever we called one another these days, we would completely miss each other? Did someone in the universe not want me to tell my husband that I was, or rather we were adopting a child? It upset me a lot and a feeling of dread settled within my stomach. Long breath in, Sara, and a long breath out.

--

I sniffed and held Harry closer to myself. In my hand and behind Harry's back I held the adoption papers and Harry's new birth certificate.

**Name**- Harry James Potter-Khan

**Birth Date**- 31st July, 1980

**Birth Mother**- Lily Anne Potter

**Mother's Age**- 20

**Birth Father**- James Richard Potter

**Father's Age**- 21

**Adoption Date**- November 11, 1985

**Mother**- Sarayu Khan

**Age**- 27

**Father**- Imitiaz Khan

**Age**- 31

I never thought that having a child would be that great. I was so happy. It felt like a part of me was complete now. That part, that wanted to be a mother. I was a mother now. Harry's mother and he was my son. And I dd one thing that I had always seen in the movies. I pulled him from my body, took one of my fingers to my eyes and rubbed off some of the kohl from there. I held that kohled finger to Harry neck and made a black mark on the corner. He was so perfect, I had to make a mark so that now he was imperfect, and no one's evil eye could touch him. And into his eyes I spoke the divine hymn that is sung in to the ears of the newborn children- the Gayatri Mantra.

Om Bhur Bhuva svaha

Tat Sa Vitur Varenym

Bhargo Deva Syadi Mahi

Dio yo na pracho daya

Shanti

_(AN:- At the moment I cant give you the translation because I cant find the book! As soon as I do, I'll let you know in another chapter in author's notes. Sorry!)_

--

_Four Days Later_

Everything had been arranged quite hurriedly. The flight was in another three hours, Harry had seen entire London and was ready to leave this life behind and go to his new home in India. He had gotten Indian citizenship and was no longer a ward of the British ministry. I got out of the taxi and went to the open trunk, pulling out the suitcases, one more than I had come with. Harry tolled behind me, his backpack already on the trolley. I rolled the cart along to the gates making sure that Harry was constantly on my side, and Kate behind me. She had insisted on seeing us to the airport for she wanted to see her friend's son one last time. All three of us went inside and Harry and I stood in the check-in line. The line itself was surprisingly short considering the time of night and a flight to India.

With our boarding passes, passports (Harry's new) in our hands we moved to get into the security check in line when Kate pulled me ten feet away from Harry.

"Sarayu, I have no doubt that you will take care of Harry. And I am proud to have assisted you in smuggling him out of the country," she stated. Seeing my confused expression at 'smuggling' she replied, "You will not understand. But everything that has happened is legal and no one can take him away from you now. But I," she hesistated but pulled out a package from her purse, "Harry believes the worst of his parents. That they were drunks who got themselves killed in a car crash. I have no doubt within a few years he will find out the truth about his heritage. And when he does, when he asks for his birth parents," she handed me the package, "I want you to give him this. These are their photos, some certificates, pages out of their school yearbook. Please do not give it to him before he is ready. You will get to know exactly when that is. Take good care of him, he deserves it. Teach him responsibility, courage, leadership. He will need those soon for his destiny awaits him." And with those words, she turned and strode out of the airport. I looked flabbergasted at her retreating figure, and then down at the package. On top of it was written in neat cursive- Harry James Potter. Not Potter-Khan. This name would…his previous name…I don't know. Just that it wouldn't leave him even though he would soon adopt another identity. It would come back for him. When did I get so spiritual? Seeing my number in the line, I quickly stuffed the package in my handbag and went back into the line.

And two hours and twenty sevenminutes later we were back in another line of boarding the plane. So goodbye United Kingdom, and hello Republic of India.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6- Confrontations**

**Minerva's POV**

So, the rescue mission was done and over with. For once in my life, I think that I could boast that I had fooled the Great Albus Dumbledore. It seemed to good to be true, me fooling the Great Champion of Wizard-kind. Anyone who had told me this ten days ago, I would have flooed straight to St. Mungo's, not just because I didn't think I could fool him, but the fact that why would I want to? He was after all one of my best friends, mentor, role model, etc. etc. But I had found a reason, Harry Potter. I breathed a sigh of relief and sat down on the big red armchair in my quarters. I closed my eyes and saw the huge relief and tension just lift out of me.

"Minerva," a voice called. I jumped out of my armchair and waved my wand over to the fireplace. Albus's head was floating in the fire. "Welcome back. Can I see you I my office please?" and with that the head was gone. Meaning no room for declining. He probably wanted to see how I was going to catch up with the lesson plans. I grabbed the folder off my study table and flooed myself to the headmaster's office.

Coughing slightly at the ashes that had gone down the food pipe, I accepted the tea that was lying, hot, on Albus's table. Muttering a quick 'thank you', I gulped it down and sighed in relief as the itching and the coughing stopped.

"How is your niece?" asked Albus, standing behind his chair, staring down at me. I looked up and quickly averted my eyes. Did he know something? His eyes were for the first time in twelve years that I had known him, devoid of their ridiculous sparkle. I stuttered out a reply of her well-being. "Oh, good, good. Rosalind, right?" I nodded my head quickly. "Oh no, no. I think you mentioned Diana who was sick. Funny, how you don't remember whose house you stayed in, and helped out." I chuckled weakly, and blabbered a bit about weakness and stress. "Ah, of course. So weak, yes, invisible, in fact. When I checked up with Diana, however horrific that experience was for me, looking for my Deputy Headmistress, imagine my horror when I discovered she had never even been there in the past week. And even funnier," he chuckled at this point, "is that fact that Minerva decides to disappear at the same time that Harry Potter and his family, supposedly according to her, leave for vacation. Care to explain, Minerva?"

I had been caught. I knew that now. But the important fact was that Albus was ready to hear my explanation. Which also meant that he had not as of yet done anything to stop Sarayu and Harry from departing England. As soon as they were out of the country, they would hopefully be out of Albus's and the Ministry's jurisdiction. But now I had to speak. I choose my words carefully. "They were abusing him, Albus. They were abandoning him in the streets of London. Right now the Dursleys, Vernon, at least is in police custody. He is in jail." I stared Albus right in the eyes and spoke the last line. What had been done was final, and Albus needed to realize that. Nothing he could do now would change this reality. "Harry Potter is out of their care, and had been placed somewhere he would be more looked after. He will be your puppet no longer, Albus."

Albus looked at me in the eyes, and they seemed so sad and broken now. I started feeling ashamed of what I had done. I knew Albus cared a lot for the little boy, and had laid his hopes in the boy due to some reason or the other. Albus had a reason for everyone of his actions. But the fact was that here the treatment of the boy had been overlooked in face of this reason. Something I would not allow, something I had not allowed. "What have you done, Minerva?" he spoke it low. I looked back at him. He had shut his eyes my now, and a tear was trailing down his cheek. I wanted to say something, as his best friend, as a confidant, but the next words he said forced me to reconsider my position as his most trusted friend. "Please leave my office, Professor McGonagall. I require the assistance of Severus over this matter. Your work here is done."

I backed away a few steps and then turned towards the door. I pulled it open and stopped. "You won't find him, Albus. I won't let you." And with that I walked out of the room, but not before I heard a floo call for Severus go through the fireplace. It seemed I had lost my best friend.

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**Sara's POV**

I opened the door to the apartment. A musty smell came out of the house that had been shut for a while now. I peeked in and winced. One bad thing, no terrible thing about India, was the excessive amount of dust. Take my house for example, yes I understand its been closed for two weeks now but seriously the inches of dust that glared at me from the top of the glass tables was just mean! It seemed like they were trying to take vengeance on me for leaving them alone for a while. It was a real miracle that no one in India had dust allergies, well almost everyone, I thought as I saw Harry sneeze thrice.

"Bless you."

I pulled the luggage behind me and wheeled it into a corner and I saw Harry do the same with his smaller suitcase. For a five-year old, the kid was sure strong. But I suppose where there is a will, there is a way. It was very tiring to commute across continents especially with the damn time difference. It was three in the afternoon and after a round of nosy neighbors and their welcome back greetings all the while trying to get out of me who Harry was, questions I skillfully avoided, I was indeed very tired. And it seemed to me Harry reciprocated my feelings. So food later, sleep now and with that mission in mind I directed Harry and myself into the only bedroom of the small flat and fell into a deep sleep.

- - - -

"But Ma, what could I do?" I whined to my mother on the phone. Why didn't she understand my problem? I agree that not telling Imtiaz about Harry was probably the worst thing that I could do in our relationship, but I needed support here not a nagger. "Ma, I am already beating myself over this, now don't you start with that too. Just tell me how I should proceed the talk with my dearest husband. He arrives tomorrow afternoon. Can you call him and break him the good news?" I suggested hopefully but then cringed at the shouting I heard from the other end. Mainly the gist of the shouts was- Sarayu you are an idiot. It's a miracle your husband puts up with you. Ya. My mother.

But I was seriously desperate. Imtiaz was due to arrive tomorrow from his convention, i.e. in less than twenty hours and I had no clue how to proceed to tell him that 'Darling, welcome home. By the way, I adopted a son for us. Would you like some lemonade, dear?' Right….that would go well. I had gotten some support from Harry who stated that if his new father was as nice as I said then he would probably accept him and his freakishness in the house. But fact was that I was freaking out here. I could not very well tell my colleagues at the office and ask for their opinion in the matter because in a matter of seconds it would be all over on national television as a sensational news item. But sitting here in the office I could not help but worry and tense out at the upcoming 'mahayudha' or great war in my house. The worry wouldn't let me concentrate on my work at the office and was eating me up inside. Thankfully tomorrow was a Saturday and so I could sleep in or prepare for my husband's arrival quietly at home.

"Ma, I am asking for your advice not your taunts. Can you suggest anything?" after hearing her thoughts on the matter, I responded, "Ya, that helps. Blurting it out. Yes, Ma. I know it would've helped had I mentioned something like the news on the cell phone but that option's gone now isn't it? I'll talk to you later. Bye," I rolled my eyes and banged the phone down. I sighed and held my head in my hands. I was doing that a lot nowadays. This tension was killing me. Please let tomorrow come quickly and get my judgment day done and over with.

- - - -

Ding Dong.

Shit. He's here. I took a deep breathe and adjusted my dress and then signaled for Harry to go inside the bedroom. I had previously instructed him on what he should do when I talked to his daddy, basically stay in the room and don't come out until you are called. I walked to the door, pressed down the handle, sending a prayer up to my gods, I pushed the door open. I raised my eyes, I opened my mouth to start talking immediately when, "Madam, would you like to buy soap set offered by our company? We have some great promotion schemes available in Vivel soaps. Buy 2get 1 free and you can even enter a lucky draw to win a 3-piece set of bath towels." I groaned out loud, and shut the door on the offending man's face. Bloody hell, people have a sick sense of humor. Here I am dying of guilt and tension, and you want me to buy a fudging soap?? Why not give me a bottle of sleeping pills and be done with it. Why are you prolonging it my Lord? I raised my hands up to question the gods when…

Ding Dong.

Here comes another one. What now- life insurance? I stomped over to the door and burst it open and then, "Take it easy, love. I am not going anywhere." My mouth split open into a wide smile at seeing my husband after so long and I threw my arms around his shoulders, squeezing him tight. "Missed me, did you?" I put him at an arm's length and checked his face. Yup, everything in order. The tousled black hair, the smiling brown eyes, the damn long and aristocratic nose of his, and that heart melting smile with the cute dimples. I pulled the luggage out his hands and rolled it over to the side of the couch. I gestured for him to sit and went to get his glass of ginger ale.

"Here you are, husband. How was the convention?"

"Damn boring. You know how these are…going on and on over one topic, the fights and the debates and finally no conclusion reached."

"And how was Rina, your lovely secretary?"

"Riiiinnnaa….damn fantastic!" What? This was not what I wanted to hear and seeing the teasing smile, I glared up at the man. "Jaan (Life), she was just attending our calls, i.e. everyone's, and not just mine. Which reminds me, you wanted to talk urgently to me. Sorry we've been completely missing each other these past couple of days and not been able to keep in touch. So now I'm home, refreshed and everything. What was this urgent thing?" Hehe. Not so urgent anymore considering we really do not get a choice now. Not that I want one, but Im might and well….that would cause problems to say the least.

"Actually, I… well you see… its just that…Would you like something to drink? More Ginger Ale, Beer, Vodka, or Poison? No? Just me? Okay." Damn. I ruined everything. I held my head in my hands and groaned.

"You are not pregnant, are you?" Imtiaz asked jokingly. I chuckled weakly…pregnant, huh? Something like that… "Come on," he said, petting my hair now, "Tell me. What's up?"

"I…I…I adopted a little boy," I rushedly blurted out, "The same child I told you about, Harry. He is officially now Harry Potter Khan, our son." I was very well aware now that the hand in my hair had stopped stroking and had fallen into my husband's lap. Tears rushed into my eyes and I blinked them back quickly. I hadn't even started with the explanation, this was no time to fall apart. I needed to explain as fast as I could before he started thinking things in the wrong way. "He is an orphan boy, well no longer really. His relatives were abandoning him in the streets of London, and I couldn't…" I stopped at seeing the raised hand which signaled me to basically shut the hell up.

_(A/N: Should I end it now? ;-P )_

_._

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"Wait… You ado… When you told me this, what did you think… What were you…. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU??" It seemed to me that my heart had just fallen at the pit of my stomach. It seemed to stop, and a huge bulge started forming in my throat. I cleared my throat silently. He shot up out of the sofa and started pacing the room. Something told me that my husband wasn't done. "Without asking me, without consulting me you pop the damn boy out of nowhere and present to me that he is now my legal fucking son? How could you?" He turned to me and pulled my out of the sofa, his grip tight on my biceps, shaking me lightly. "How could you even think that I would be okay with this?"

"I thought…"

"Thought? Big joke?" he scoffed out and shook his head in a disdainful manner. His lips had curled into a sneer, "Did you think? When I married you, I thought that you are a sensible woman. A rational woman I fell in love with. Now I understand you are just an emotional fool! Just like the rest of them but you know what the bloody difference is? You think you are an independent money-making fool, and that is why you did not bother involving your husband in this matter." The hot tears were flowing freely now. I kept on shaking my head from left to right. Please see reason, Imtiaz, I thought. "Where is the boy? Hiding? Kid! Come out now, and meet your bloody father!" I stepped in front of him, trying to shield him from saying anything to Harry, more like I was really worried that he would become violent. But he pushed me aside, and stepped in front looking down at Harry who was standing there looking his father straight in the eye. I cupped my nose and mouth in a silent rejection that this could ever be happening to the image that I had constructed of my happy family.

"Imtiaz, please…"

"So, kid. Harry is it? Am I what you expected in a father? Do I meet upto the required expectations, because you know I was never even fucking told of the fact that I could possibly have a son. Imagine my surprise when I find an unknown stranger claiming that he is my legal kin. Funny world isn't it?" He looked at me now, still bent. "And my darling Sara, what did you think I would say? Welcome to the family, my dear boy. But I should say lord knows who you brought into this house? Do you even know who the hell his real parents are? You brought strange blood into this house? You have ruined the purity of our house! Mingled it with bad blood, his blood." He pointed his finger straight at Harry. "Get rid of the filth in this house, Sarayu or I might forget my limits." He straightened his back and stood tall. "So, dearest wife. What is it going to be- your ever loving husband who is willing to forget this episode ever happened or this freak?! Decide quickly love. Remember the movie we are supposed to catch?" he looked smug at this pointand I shattered. I called him my soulmate. I blinked my eyes, the tears fell and smiled a broken smile. Sniffing I looked at Harry. He was looking at me now. I smiled a watery smile at him. I am sorry, I wanted to say to the little boy. So sorry.

I shut my eyes and stood up. Clearing my throat, I slowly and clearly announced my decision. "When we bought this house, we signed it under my name so that we could avail the five percent discount. Therefore Im, love, this house is in my name. Get out of my house, Imtiaz Khan. My son and I will be perfectly fine without you. Please leave." I didn't want to look at him, fearing I would change my mind if I did. Oh Lord. He had to present me with the hardest decision in the world- husband or child. I hope I have made the right choice. But who can pronounce the right and wrong in this situation.

"Fine." He whipped back and stomped over to the main entrance. On the right side were the car keys. Grabbing them and throwing open the door, he walked out, banging the door loudly as he did. My knees gave way and I fell on the ground. I cupped my nose and mouth and cried loudly. Swishing back and forth, I poured out my sorrows. I could feel Harry beside me, rubbing my back. Poor child, first day in this country and already he had to support it seemed his now single mother.

"I told you," he said softly, "nobody wants a freak. I think you should leave me at an orphanage here and live happily with your husband, Mum." I chuckled weakly.'

"You call me mother and still question my decision, sweetie. No child is a freak, and especially my son is not a freak. And don't you are call him that, mister. Understand?" I stood up. "do you want anything to eat." Without waiting for an answer, I walked over and pulled out a few things from the pantry. Placing them on the table, I said, "I'll just be in the bedroom…cleaning. Don't disturb me unless its really important, alright, sweetie. You just eat." And with that I walked into the bedroom. Closing the door behind me, I fell on the ground. Oh, Imtiaz. How could you?

_A/N: Cliffy!! Me evil….. muahahahahaha_


	9. Chapter 8

**Adoption into India**

**Chapter 7- A Family**

_Sara's POV_

How I found myself on the bed, draping half-out literally, I didn't know. All I knew was that Imtiaz had left me and it had been approximately, I looked back again at the clock for what seemed the thousandth time, six hours and twenty three minutes since I was a single mother. I half expected it all to be a joke, Im to come back through the door and announcing that the past hours had all been a figment of my imagination, all a bad dream. But then the anxiety had got to me, and I had cruelly reminded myself by vomiting in the bathroom, that this loneliness was here to stay. That it was now a part of my life.

Ever heard the song- _Lonely, I'm Mr. Lonely, I have no body of my own-_ yup, my state right now- half shocked, half hysterical, and it seemed half hyper. They say you should listen to a lot of break-up songs in order to get over the pain. But did I actually want to? Leaving and trying to get over your husband is possibly the worst thing that you can do. Ever heard of a proper Hindu wedding, that was the ceremony Imtiaz and I bound us under, three years ago. This ceremony declares you husband and wife, not just for your current life, but for the next six lifetimes. I had been bound to my husband for seven lifetimes. Might seem like a damn terrifying possibility to most people, stuck with the same man/woman for another six reincarnations, no thank you! But we had gotten it done willingly, happily. All for naught. He had left me in three years, let alone lifetime! I used to think that this unhappiness, how far exaggerated it was in Bollywood Movies, of a dark pit of emptiness, a dark hole in the depths of your stomach, was purely just pish-posh. But maybe there was an iota of truth in them. This pit that I felt now was endless. Far worse than what was projected in these TV soaps and movies. They said it went away with time, but looking at the chocolate wrappers scattered around the bed, I didn't think it was ever possible.

DING-DONG

It was the front doorbell. With swollen red eyes, tear tracks down my face, smudged make-up, and a heavy heart, I definitely didn't want to answer the door. "Harry, sweetie," I croaked out from the bedroom, "Could you check who is at the door, please? I'll be right out." And with that I made my way to the bathroom to clean myself up and answer whoever was waiting. You must think that I should at least be in my senses not to send out a five-year old to check who is at the door. Well, in India we have a cool system, instead of just a wooden door like most houses in the west have; there is an additional wire/net door. So you can see who is at the door without any problems or safety issues. But still I needed to hurry in the bathroom. I washed my face and scrubbed it clean with a towel. So hard that it hurt, a punishment you could say. I took a deep breath in and walked out of the bedroom door to witness a sight, which made me shocked.

_Normal POV- Outside the bedroom_

Harry heard his new mother's voice and immediately went to oblige her wishes. He reached up to the door knob and twisted it open. Looking from the darkly wired net he saw someone who had been the cruelest man he could think possible.

"Hello, Harry. Wouldn't you let your dad inside?" it was his new father. Or who was supposed to be his new father before he walked out on his mother. Harry crossed his arms across his chest and glared at the man who was kneeling to Harry's level on the other side of the mock-door. "I know you will have a hard time believing this but I really am sorry. All the things I said to you, I didn't mean any of them. They were cruel and though I can't take back what I said to you, I can try to make it up to you and your mother. Please open the door child, I want to try and patch things up." Harry glared even more intensely at the man before him. How dare he? He thought he could just come back here and try to hurt mum even more? Well, now Harry was the man of the house and he wouldn't let this cruel person hurt his mother. But then, Harry bent his head to the right and looked at the man's hands, he had brought a present. Wrapped in blue paper and decorated with silver ribbons it was quite a pretty little thing. Maybe, Harry bit his lip, he actually did want to try and set things straight. It would be nice to have a dad along with a mom. And mom was so upset he left, maybe now she would be happy he came back. Harry reached up and decided to finalize the most important decision that he had made so far in his life, he reached up and opened the bolt. Pushing the door, he let the man inside.

"If you even try to do anything bad to _my mother_, in turn I will hurt you. And don't think I can't. Now I am happy that I have my freak abilities, because I can hurt the bad men who will try anything with my mother. Understood?" the man nodded. Good, he took Harry seriously.

"Harry, who is--" the question died at Sarayu's throat as she witnessed the interaction between the father and the son. Her eyes were fixed at her husband, tears welled up in her eyes again, but she pushed them aside. Her eyes were already swollen and hurting, she didn't need anymore of the pain. "How dare you come back here? I thought I made it clear that this was my house and that I asked you to leave."

"Oh you did, but see I came back for my things inside the house. Cant leave without them, love, now can I?" Sara scoffed. Love. Asshole.

"Oh, and what are these things? Your clothes, half of which I bought through my credit card as a present, or do you mean this?" she fingered the black and gold beaded necklace at her throat, "the _Mangalsutra_- the holy necklace of matrimony- that you placed on my throat those years ago? What do you mean by possessions, Imtiaz Ali Khan?!"

"Oh definitely the necklace, and the red-colored sindoor in your hair. All the signs of you being a married woman. And not just that I want back the person who swore herself to me for seven lifetimes. You swore to follow me wherever I went, remember love? So if I leave this house, shouldn't you follow me, my dearest wife?" Sara's mouth was wide open by now, half wanting to scream out obscenities, she settled for the gaping goldfish look. Imtiaz smiled, "Got you, didn't I?"

"It took you quite long to arrange for a come back to kicking you out of the house. Seven hours. I am ashamed."

"And it seems you have no come back for the vows you so willingly took, Sarayu."

"Here's your come-back." Sara reached to her throat and grabbed the necklace. Seeing her move to rip it out of her throat, ripping out any evidence her as a married woman, Imtiaz grabbed her hand and pulled her close. Clasping her tightly in his arms, he looked down at her. She was glaring up at him, and trying to get out of his embrace. If needed she could have kicked him in the shin, and had him on his knees in twenty seconds, but that fact that she was not indicated to him that he still had time to explain. That she was giving him time to get into her good graces.

"I haven't given you the right to take those out yet, love. In my religion it's the man's right to declare the divorce remember?" _(A/N: Is this true in Islam? I think so. I have heard but not exactly checked up on this. If it is wrong please forgive me.)_

"And according to India's law I reserve the right to say fuck you, dearest husband. And since when did you have the right over any of my actions?"

"Since I loved you. Since I will love you. Forever and ever. Sara I'm sorry. So sorry I made you wait for me to come back, I love you. Don't ever doubt that, jaan." It seemed a weight had been taken off Sara's shoulders. She let out an audible gasp as her knees collapsed beneath her. She curled up into a ball and rocked back and forth. Shaking her head rapidly, she kept on muttering three words- you left me, you left me. Imtiaz gathered the ball in his arms, not that it was hard, Sara was nine inches shorter than him, and kissed her hair gently. Apologizing over and over. "Sorry, so sorry. I just wasn't ready at first. When you told I thought a child. We weren't ready for one. And then I thought. Not ready? Wasn't I ready for a family with the woman that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with? Ready for my children whom I could teach how to play cricket, and how to hold a stethoscope correctly. Didn't I want to piggy-back a little boy who called me Abba (Dad) and you Ammi (Mom). And then I thought about how ready you were for a child maybe you did take this decision in too much of a hurry. Were you even ready for a family? For the responsibility? And so, I designed this cruel test you could say." Sara looked up at him shocked. "I'm sorry but I wanted you to choose between your husband and your child, and I think that you made the perfect choice. And that's why I got this present." He took the present and gave it to Sarayu. Taking it with her shaking hands, she unfolded the ribbons and ripped the wrapping paper. "These are the rough designs for a nameplate outside the house."

Etched on paper was a mock drawing of a name plate to be placed outside the house- Imtiaz, Sarayu, and Harry Khan.

"I want us all to be a family. I want a chance once again to prove that I am the father for Harry. His new dad. Harry," holding open his right arm, the left clasping Sarayu, he beckoned at the little boy who was watching their interaction from the door, "wouldn't you come to dad now and join in the family hug?" Without waiting for even a moment's notice, Harry ran into the open arms of his father. Sara let out a weak chuckle as she fingered the drawing. She looked up into Imtiaz's eyes. He kissed her forehead gently. "I am never leaving again. Can't be rid of me that easy, love. I love you and I love Harry. My child. This is my family from now on, the greatest one could ask for. Shukriya, e- Allah. Allah hu Akbar. (_A/N: I think that is rough Urdu and translates to thank you God. God is Great). _

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_A cruel maniacal laugh, "Stand aside, silly girl." A woman pleading for a child and then green light. Pain. Only Pain. _

Harry screamed and thrashed. Sara and Imtiaz instantly woke to the screams of their child. His first night in the house and he was awake from nightmares with his, for the first time, mother and father there to comfort and hold him. To tell him that all was going to be okay. Not like Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon who screamed at him to shut up when he was screaming out his throat hoarse. Sara gathered Harry' head in her lap and comforted the crying child, wiping and kissing away his tears.

"You want to tell us what happened, sweetie?" she asked the frightened child who appeared to be calming down after taking a gulp of the water offered to him by his father.

"Green light. I think…maybe it was the traffic signal. Aunt Petunia did say _they_ died in a drunken driving car crash," Harry spoke from his croaky throat. It seemed his voice was going to be like that for a while. It sounded like a really bad nightmare. Thank God tomorrow was Sunday. There was enough time to rest and catch up with things regarding Harry. telling people mostly. Thank god again that Imtiaz was back, Sara wasn't sure how the hell she could have coped up if her husband wasn't there. Adoption really wasn't looked at all that well in India. Something about bad blood and all that. It was a really bad ideology most people carried considering the population crisis in India! But it was hard to change the norms and the beliefs of the people in such a short time span. They would need to understand things from Sara's point of view and then see and judge Harry. It was the way of the Indian world. Don't ask.

"It's all right sweetie. It isn't going to hurt you now." Seeing Harry biting his lip, Sara added, "Would you like to sleep in mum and dad's room today, love?" Harry nodded and got up from his sofa-cum bed and followed them into the bedroom. Sweet dreams, Harry.

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_A/N:- Firstly I want to apologize for the delay in the chapter. I had a writer's block, and college started with the work and all that and I just didn't have any time. Only when I got that message from someone to remind me that I had an obligation to the story did I sit down to write it. And here it is. _

_Secondly, yes it is complete soap opera here. Can't help it. I pondered the idea of a single mother and then I realized that I loved the character of Imtiaz way too much to part with him. _

_Thirdly, how should I proceed further? Should I take it slow and then give highlights of life till magic school and all that fantasy stuff starts or should I take it real slow with every detail. Give me some help on what lessons should children learn. What should he be caught doing, and other details. Can't furnish a lot right now. So, HELP!!_


	10. Chapter 9

_A/N: Many of the readers and reviews suggested that I move forward quicker, while highlighting the points in his life… I think that I want to highlight till he reaches Magic School in India. Give away!! Lol…I will try to accommodate for any life lessons and social interaction with others his age. And someone told me that Muslims and Hindus would not have the wedding the Hindu way. Actually I think it depends on how liberal you are, because the Hindu part is just ritual and not even necessary. And if said reviewer knows about an actor named Shahrukh Khan, then they would know that he had his wedding the Hindu way. At least that's what I have seen on TV. So…I guess its okay._

**Adoption into India**

Chapter 8- Flash forwards and Flashbacks

_Nine months and twenty three days later- Sara's POV_

It was a miracle how quickly Harry, or should I say Eklavya Aamir Khan or Lucky or Luck for short, had mingled within the family, and settled into everyone's hearts, especially my brother's twin two-year old daughters. It was true what they they said you know- terrible twos. It's not just a phrase, there is always a concrete reality behind such golden words. For further reference meet my nieces- Sarika, and Sakshi. But Lucky never having children and adults doting over him took enough care to make sure the girls were alright wherever they went, whenever they went. They actually followed him about like a pack of ducklings. My mother thought it was the cutest thing, but I could see Luck rolling his eyes whenever they to cling too much to him. Good boy. Take after his mother!

He had quickly adapted to the Indian culture and was rapidly speaking both Hindi and English. It would be a fault to say that he became religious because both of us had not stressed upon that aspect of life too much. Understanding and respecting each other's religions was more important than practicing one. It was a strange thought when someone had asked me why one cannot be secular and religious at the same time? You don't meet a lot of people like that really.

Relations between Imtiaz and me had been stressed for the first month since his "coming back". It had been a very cruel test to put anyone under. Sometimes when he and I would have a disagreement on how to run the house, I felt like outbursting and screaming at him that he had left me and I didn't trust him anymore to make the decisions. It felt like the most selfish thoughts I could possibly think of, and sometimes I felt like it as my right to be so angry and distrustful towards him. Things had changed between us. I think the relation became more mature. It wasn't the lovers' relation or the girlfriend-boyfriend living-in relation that we had always thought this marriage was. It became more like an institution to be preserved, something that people had talked about so much in society, and now I had finally understood. Now don't become all pessimistic and think that the relation was over and done with. Rather somehow I think our relation needed this tremor to make it or rebuild and refine it into something more concrete. And somewhere, blurred but somewhere out there, I could understand Imtiaz's perspective on the issue as well.

Relation between Imtiaz and Luck was also like the perfect father-son relationship you would expect in the movies. Imtiaz took time off every Saturday and Sunday till the first three months Luck had come, to teach him cricket. Lucky was a fair batsman, terrible bowler, but could grow into a great fielder one day. The catches he got, running after the ball, jumping into the air and intercepting the ball midway, was amazing and deadly scary sometimes. it was a miracle that so far he had gotten away with minor scratches and scruffs only. I used to ask him why he liked fielding best, he told me, "When I jump into the air to catch the ball, I feel so free, Mummy. Do you think I will be able to fly one day, Ma?" It was through his love for the game that the child received his first beating, well a slap really. I'm not proud of the fact I hit my son, but do you know how he scared me? You can't unless you are a mother. And well Indian mothers never pass up an opportunity to discipline their children, so sue me.

_Flashback__—seventeen days ago_

_SMACK! "Eklavya Khan! Where the hell have you been?? I have called each one of your friend's houses and everyone is inside eating dinner while my son has been roaming the streets! How dare you stay outside so late when I have told you I don't want you outside later than seventy-thirty!"_

"_Mummy, please. Its just eight-thirty…I'm not so late!"_

"_Late? It's eighty forty-three, Eklavya. This has gone long enough. I think you have been taking the freedom your dad and I have given you too casually. You are hereby grounded for two weeks. You are going to sit inside with only one hour of television in a day and rest of the day study your Hindi books. Your first year starts in less than two weeks and you will get ready for it!"_

Anyway it was finally Harry's, sorry Lucky's turn to join school in India, and he had joined the same school I went to when I was his age. He was adjusting really well it seemed. The teachers were pleased with him, especially his sports teacher who commented he flew on the field to catch the ball and could be a great player one day. Takes after his father, I told them! He had made a few friends here and there but nothing 'concrete' he told me. I was shocked to hear how well his vocabulary had improved in the last six months he had been with us. Showed the ability of sweet-talk and mothering. Caring really did get you far. But seriously, I told him. First grade and you expect concrete? Child, you need to check your priorities. But talking of teachers, I remember one very strange incident.

_Flashback__— One month ago _

_I had received a phone call from Eklavya's school to tell me that my son was in trouble with the principal! Can you believe it? A first grade child! I couldn't. I had been with the slum children of Delhi at that time, organizing workshops and arranging for possible volunteers in our efforts of increasing literacy among the street children. I had left my work to my second-in charge and rushed straight to the school. And the strangest sight greeted me when I got to the principal's office. _

_Eklavya was sitting on a chair in front of the principal, his back to me. The principal—Mrs. Arundhati Siddharth—don't even try to pronounce it—was smiling at me, beckoning me inside the room. And next to Eklavya, I noticed now, though I don't realize how I couldn't have seen it sooner was a purple haired man. I don't think it was a teacher, who the hell was this person in India of all places to wear purple hair….?? _

"_Ah, Mrs. Khan. Glad you could make it. Please sit down. Tea, coffee?" Eklavya snapped his head back, and in a moment was in my arms. He was whining and crying against my stomach. I looked questioningly at the principal when the purple-haired man turned around and glared at me. I gasped in shock and then snorted, loudly. It was Mr. Pande- Luck's Maths teacher. The one Lucky had been complaining about for a while now—'so boring, mamma'. _

"_Mr. Pande. You should really change your hair color brand. Purple really does not suit your skin tone." I snorted and laughed at him. Mrs. Siddharth was also biting her lip in an effort to hold her laughter._

"_You think this is funny Mrs. Khan. Your son is a shaitaan (poltergeist , and you find this to be funny?!" I raised my eyebrow at him and looked at the principal. I needed some help figuring this one out._

"_Sara, Mr. Pande, a reputed teacher at our school for the past twenty-seven years thinks that your son mysteriously turned his hair purple. He has not been able to find the instrument used and has thus brought Lucky to me for punishment." I looked down at Eklavya who was shaking his head in my clothes, denying anything to do with Operation Purple. And then I sat down to discuss with the rest of them._

I had thought that it was all some other child's prank. How it worked out, and was planned out by the children was unexplainable. There was no evidence, no hair color. The children were unstained. How he had singled out Lucky to be the one to plot the prank I didn't want to know and care to find out. Somehow I didn't think it would be a good enough reason for him to make my son cry. But the strangest thing was that when I was in the car with Lucky, I took him out of school early after that meeting, he confessed to the crime.

_Flashback_

"_Mum, I did turn Mr. Pande's hair purple today. He wasn't lying." I looked at him shocked. He hurried to explain further, "I don't know how it happened, mum. All I was thinking was that this class was so boring and he was so monotonous. I wished for something different to happen, and suddenly his hair started turning purple. Strand by strand, it all turned neon purple!" It was then that I remembered all the things that the Smiths and the Dursleys had been talking about. All the words that they had said came rushing back to me at once. I took a deep breath in and out. I couldn't dismiss their theory all I wanted, no matter how strange and unbelievable it was. I needed to think about it all and ask Harry about it. If what they had said was true, then…._

"_Sweetie. Do me a favor. I want you to think about how bored you were during that class, how hard you wished for something great to happen. And then I want you to think of this, tissue," I pulled out a Kleenex from the box in the dashboard of the car, "and turn it the same purple color that was in Mr. Pande's hair. Nothing will happen to you if anything strange does happen, okay? I promise." And then I waited. Harry squeezed his eyes tight, and did his…magic. I waited a couple of seconds—twenty—and then Harry opened his eyes. Nothing had happened to the tissue. I breathed a sigh of relief. I dropped the tissue and then turned back to take the seat belt and tie it around my waist. And then I heard Harry gasp. I turned back quickly, and saw his gaze fixed and the floor of the car. I followed his gaze and saw a white tissue consumed by what seemed a purple fire. And then it settled down, and in front of both our gazes was a stark neon purple colored tissue paper. I picked it up and stared at it. Bloody fucking hell. _

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_My hands started shivering as I took in the situation. I know I told him that everything would be okay and nothing happen to him, but my son just performed very real magic- all that storybook kind and everything. And I don't think it was just a neat hand trick. I reached into my purse and pulled out the phone. I really needed Imtiaz on this one- maybe something to do with the brain, as a neurologist I think he can come up with some explanation. I fiddled with the phone keys, nearly dropping the pone in the first few attempts. Thankfully Im wasn't busy with his surgeries. I stuttered my way into calling him back home. Emergency was all the explanation I gave and he asked for. But fact was that right now I could not drive. I took my things, got Lucky and myself out of the car and screamed for a taxi. _

_-_

The one thing that Im and I had agreed with was that Eklavya could not show his abilities to others. A word of this to the Indan media either Lucky would be made into a God-avatar/reincarnation or he would be labeled a freak of nature. No matter how many developments and modernization going on in India but it still remains that society filled with dumb superstitions. I could easily imagine the headlines- 'Child in Delhi; Avatar of Change or End of the World?' This was for sure. The mentality of the press everywhere around the world is this- one minute you are hailed a hero, the other treated as a pariah. But fact was that Lucky needed to develop and be able to control his emotions and powers, for lack of a better word. And Hindu Vedas (or the way of living book, basically) always suggested one thing….Yoga and Meditation.

Soon Lucky was enrolled into Yoga classes. He used to come home, much calmer. Thankfully his hyperness had just been a phase and he really wasn't a morning child. Anyway, back to the topic. He would demonstrate how he could control himself and his powers. He would many a times be helpful around the house, like when Imtiaz would rush home with crushed and welted flowers for our anniversary or my birthday, Lucky would magically turn them bright and full (you would not believe how many fights he prevented because of this!) and sometimes he would be much more of a child that he was, who loved to try and outsmart his mother. Try being the key word. When I would give him chores like dusting the furniture, he would sit on the sofa and watch as the telepathically charged cloth would sweep across the glass tables. I would smack Luck over the head, and make him drop his concentration and would watch with satisfaction as the cloth fell dead on the ground. I would sprinkle talcum powder all over the tables and ask him to start again. Now some might say that he is trying to practice his powers, but no. I know my son, thank you very much, he is being lazy. But another thing was that so much concentration really took a toll on him. He would get tired much easier on the days he used magic. We really needed to work on his magical abilities. But how? If we could just get one sign, any indication of help…Little did we know that help would arrive soon, but not too soon.

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_One year and one month later_

Bloody hell. This car I tell you. So many times have I told Imtiaz to get this damn thing trashed. We need a new car. Oh no love, it works just wonderfully. Handle it with love and care, and it will respond to your emotions. Fucking bull. Now here I was- standing in the middle of the Silver Market- Chandni Chowk- at eight fifty-three at night with Harry sitting next to me, and Imtiaz conveniently missing from the scene. He had a conference in Malaysia. How wonderfully these things are timed? Don't you think so? I tried the key once more. The engine chugged. "Work, damn it." And then it fell silent. I heaved a sigh of despair and fell back in my seat with a groan. "This car is a goner, kid. Remind me to hit your father." Lucky laughed at the comment. I smiled too, but oh god! Nausea. Shit. You know they really should not call it morning sickness. It's a way to get the women interested in pregnancy. A way to conform them to the system of men domination, and a lie to boot. Why you ask? Fucking thing lasts all day long. Like right now when I least need it and yet here it is ready to be thrown in the car. Wouldn't mind it so much, but I think I am more concerned about trying to sell this piece of junk than ruining it.

"Mum, are you okay?"

"Your sibling too thinks this car is trash, Luck. And is trying to show it in the best way they think possible."

Lucky smiled and looked around the shops. All of them were shut, dark and dingy. A street light flickered in the distance. Only the headlights of our car were a way to see anything going on the street around us. And that too blurred. Oh shit! And it is raining to boot. I pulled up the windows but Luck pointed to a little mini-street, a right turn from the now-closed sweets shop. "There, mum! There is a light on. I will see if I can get some help for my sibling! You sit here, I'll run and get some!" and with that he opened the car-door and ran off. What the hell! I quickly unlodged the car keys, threw open the door, and ran after him.

"Eklavya Khan! Get your ass back here! Where the hell do you think you are going?! There is no light there, its all dark. Child, you'll get lost." Lucky was forty-feet ahead of me when he stopped and pointed at a closed shop.

"Here, mum! They can help. I have a feeling we need to go here." But the shop was closed. I tried telling him that. There were a few vases with intricate designs on them in the glass, but the lights were off and it looked like a creepy place. Luck walked forward and tried to push the door open. I lunged at him and grabbed his hand. I couldn't let him go away from my sight. This shop looked creepy and dingy enou…what the hell! Suddenly it seemed like I was looking into a stadium. All the lights of the shop were on. "See, Ma. Here is the shop. Come let's go in." Still imitating a goldfish, I let myself be led in by my son into the shop.

Inside the shop, there were various paintings hanging behind the counter- with different designs and people painted on them. Below them, were vases with pentagrams and triquetras drawn on them. I looked behind me and saw lockets that looked like amulets hanging from a nail on the wall. I reached my hand out to take a closer look at one when a voice rang in behind me, "I wouldn't do that if I were you. They bind themselves to the person who touches them. Pretty powerful things." I looked behind me, Lucky still on my hand looking curiously at the new arrival. She was an old woman. A short lady with white and grey hairs. She was wearing a red…robe?...of sorts with a necklace- the pendant a shape of a moon. She was cleaning out a jar it seemed. "Welcome Mrs. and Master Khan. I have been expecting you." She looked over at the table and chairs on our right and gestured for us to sit down. There were three cups and a pot of hot tea on the table that I could have sworn wasn't there when I was taking in the room a few seconds ago. Obediently I sat down. Something told me I needed to hear what she had to say. Suddenly the pot of tea rose in the air and poured Indian tea out into the three little cups. A cube of sugar rose into the air dropped without a splash into my tea, and a small spoon instantaneously appeared and began to stir it. "Forgive me. I would do it on my own, but as your can see my hands are occupied right now." I looked at her again in amazement, and literally jumped back into my chair, not that it was possible. Yes, her hands were still cleaning out the jar, but a second pair of hands was occupied on the glass counter right now. I looked back at her face, my mouth hanging open in bewilderment. But she only laughed.

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_A/N:- How's that?_

_I wanted to explain the name actually. Eklavya was a great warrior. He was a lower caste man though. The story goes like this—there was a teacher named Drona who taught a prince named Arjun who was the best archer in the world. Eklavya approached Drona and asked him to teach him. But being a lower caste man, he was turned down. So he made a statue of the teacher and used to practice in front of him everyday. Soon he became the best archer in the world, surpassing even Arjun. When he told this to the teacher, Drona, who had turned it down to teach him, Drona understood that if Eklavya's talents were shown to the world, he would be inversing in a sense the caste hierarchy. So in order to maintain the balance in the caste hierarchy, he asked for gurudakshina—or teacher's holy payment. Eklavya agreed to anything, and Drona asked him for his thumb. Something without which Eklavya would never be able to do archery. And Eklavya, despite understanding this, gave him his thumb in return for inspiring him to learn archery. _

_Aamir is simpler. It means leader. So, warrior leader really, in essence. _


	11. Chapter 10

India 10

**Adoption into India**

Chapter 9- The School System and New Beginnings

I gaped with my mouth open till the woman came over and snapped it shut for me, with her fourth hand!

"I get that a lot from first time Magic-child parents. One of them ran out of the shop, screaming at the top of his lungs, till he remembered that he had left his wife and daughter here. So, I would say you are doing good, so far. Let me introduce myself. I am Zaire Talhaine. I am the keeper of the book for the Department of Magical-Child Development under the Indian government. It's a shushed-up department. I keep tabs on all the children who are new at the craft and need to be initiated into the world of Magic. I guide them through their journey into the magic world- here in India and I have connections with Asian countries- Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Thailand, you name it. Are you with me so far, Mrs. Khan?" I nodded in agreement. The number of bizarre things I had seen over the year with Eklavya with me, I suppose I should have expected something like this to come forward. But to imagine something so organized (a department in the ministry!) was just unthinkable. "Do you think that you are ready to hear some more? Good. It will speed the process along. Now Eklavya, how far have you come with your craft? What have you experimented so far, if anything at all?"

"Well, I can change colors of objects. I can make dry flowers fresh again. I can move objects with my mind. When I am angry, I can make thing explode, though that doesn't happen anymore because meditation helps me control my anger and energy." I nodded in agreement and added, "When he first started showing signs of magic, my husband and I knew that we could not let him loose control of his magic because then if it becomes public, it would create something terrible. So we enrolled him for yoga and meditation classes. The results were instantaneous. He immediately improved and could control his abilities better, but he still gets very tired when he uses his magic."

"That's nothing to worry about, Mrs. Khan. He is still young, and his magic is developing still. Trying to do magic with a mind, that can only think about cricket, is very hard. Foreign wizards try to thus channel their magic through objects like a wand, or a staff, a ring. But in India, we prefer still to teach the primitive ways, because it is very easy to loose these objects. They make life simpler but make us dependent on them. Just like a calculator." Oh yes! I knew that dilemma in Math class and calculator. I remember whining to my mother about the same. "Now I assume, that you would want him to continue his craft, make it his first choice, something natural to him rather than the dilemmas he faces now of trying to hide away at every turn?" I bit my lip. Now I wasn't so sure. "It's alright. Most parents are worried about loosing control of their children, being helpless when it comes to their school work, daily life, etc. I won't lie to you, in many cases it does happen- alienation of the parents from the children. But you have to understand, this is your child's rightful place. Why else would he feel such an intense pull towards this shop? If he studies in these schools of magic craft, he can make a good future. Teaching, positions in the bureaucracy, businesses, there are endless opportunities, there is an internal land here in the Silver Market and many other areas of the country. Now about the school education…"

"I am sorry," I interrupted her. "I think this all is happening a bit too fast for me. I need to talk to my husband before I can listen anymore and take anymore decisions." I got up, out of the chair, I breathed in deeply, I gestured for Luck to follow me, when his voice rang behind me.

"Ma, can I buy this thing?" I looked behind and in his hand was a tiny golden ball with wings. The old lady- Zaire Talhaine, went to Eklavya and picked the ball out of his hands.

"Ah, a good choice, child. It's a foreign product called a snitch. Look," she opened her fist and tapped the ball which took off for a second, before she grabbed it out of the air and handed it back to Luck. "It's a sport, and helps with your reflexes too. Just don't let it go too far or you'll never catch it and your neighbors will see a golden ball floating in mid-air." I moved to put the ball back, but the old lady was quicker. She grabbed the ball, stuffed it in a box and handed it to Eklavya. "Here you go, son. A present from the other world." I bit my lip and walked out of the shop, an ecstatic Lucky following behind me.

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_A train platform. Running. Run, faster, I must catch the train. I reached my hand out, grabbed onto the bar, and pulled myself into the compartment. Just then the train began to move. I sighed in relief and looked behind me, but he wasn't there. Lucky wasn't there. Where? Where is my son? I stuck my head out of the door and glanced here and there, trying to search wildly in the crowd of thousands. 'Sir, have you seen my son?' I wanted to ask, but my mouth wouldn't open, like it was stuck together with superglue. It all seemed like a haze. The train began to pick up speed. Then I saw in the distance was that old woman. Her white hair flowing wildly behind her, her spidery long fingers waving to me, mocking me. The black robes she had on reminded me of a Tantric (Voodoo) cult I had once seen in the villages. And as the crowd parted I could see her other hand clutched onto something, a little boy. My boy! Lucky! I wanted to shout out at him. Someone help please! That's my son! She had my son! That witch has my son! He was looking at me, but could not recognize me. He didn't recognize his own mother. I wanted to shout, I wanted to scream. But I could do nothing. The train sped fast and at last a piercing scream left my throat- Eklavya!!_

I gasped and my eyes opened wide. My heart was beating so wildly, I thought I would have a stroke. Just a dream, a dream. But I awoke in complete cold sweat. I reached my hand up and tried to cool down my face temperature. A few tears leaked out from my eyes as I realized the reality of the dream. Allah! You can't take my son away from me. God no! I opened my eyes and noticed a glass of cold water hovering in front of me. I looked up and saw Imtiaz there. I sighed in relief. Looks like he had come back from his conference, just now, if I could judge by is attire. I accepted the water and gulped it down greedily. I put the empty glass on the night stand and hugged Imtiaz. Crying onto his shoulders, I allowed myself to be comforted against the inevitable future events in our lives.

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I breathed in deeply, and waited for the explosion to come. But it never did. Lucky was at Grandma's house today, and Imtiaz and I had gone out for lunch. I had just finished telling him the story of that night at the Silver Market. I waited for him to say something about the entire discussion, but he patiently sipped his coffee.

"Well, aren't you going to say anything?"

"What do you want me to say, Saru? You have obviously gotten very scared of that idea. Do you want me to give me honest opinion or try to console you? Because they will be opposite ends, love." I bit my lip. I hated it when Im would become damn mature all of a sudden when I would want to be the most immature one out there. Funny, how the two moments of both of us being mature never coincided. Anyway, back to the problem at hand.

"I don't know what I want you to say. I am scared, Imtiaz. He's my son, and not being able to understand what he is doing, where he is coming from- its such a scary thought!"

"I know, Sara. I am that boy's father. But we can't let our son's future get destroyed just because we can't understand him, or because we are scared. He has every right to choose his path," I opened my mouth to protest, "No, Sara. You know that I am right. We talk of freedom and of the right to opportunity for adults and kids alike, but why is it so hard to do stay true when it comes to our own children. On the other hand, it should be simpler. Do you remember that day, a few months ago, when we decided to go to that carnival?" I squinted my eyes, unsure of what he was trying to make me remember, "The Bombay Flying Circus" ah yes, "Do you remember the Palmist and Crystal Ball Gazer?"

_A few months ago_

_I licked the pink cotton candy from my hands. Damn it, such sugary sweetness comes at a price of stickiness. I used sanitizer on my hands and near my mouth to try and wash away the sticky pink remnants. I watched ahead, as Lucky frolicked in towards the Ferris Wheel, one hand clutching his father's. I hurried to catch up when suddenly a woman stepped in front of me. _

"_I see you, your future, and your past. Come to me, child, I will tell you all you want to know. Don't be afraid now! Come to me," she made weird gestures with her hands, and stepped back into her tent. Okay, I smiled amusingly and looked at the sign in front of the tent- Karishma (Miracle), the Seer. I called to Imtiaz and Lucky, and together we entered the tent. _

_Oh god, so much smoke and fog. I coughed in discomfort and saw Lucky do the same. "Welcome to my cavern of future secrets! Only the fortunate get to see a hint of the future, and now you shall have the opportunity. Behold the power of the future!" she lifted the sheet off the table to uncover a crystal ball. "Uhh…..technical error." She banged her foot on the end of the table, no wonder to turn the switch on, and voila! the crystal ball began to fume inside. Swirls of red and blue enveloped inside the ball, and she started gesturing around the ball. "Now, who would like to go first?" Im stepped up. "Ah, handsome boy, your future. I see a booming business. Money flowing in! You are currently working to establish your business in restaurants, right?"_

"_Ah, no."_

"_Ah, future plan to establish said business. Not satisfied with your current post as a manager in a firm, huh?" she nodded sympathetically._

"_Ah, no. I am very satisfied with my current job actually."_

"_Oh, your family wants you to join their family business, child." Imtiaz and I shared an amused glance. No one in Im's family had been linked with business for ages. Actually in India, many families run joint-family businesses. So to guess yes, 40 percent of the households and business families- small or big alike. But right now, we were having too much fun at the lady's expense. Again, Imtiaz shook his head in the negative. "Well, then you will soon. Next volunteer." I stepped up this time. "Ah, the wife. Let's see what the future offers you. I see lots of excitement. Ah! Children! Lots of them—seven!" What! "Ah, no those three aren't yours…four! Excellent! You are pregnant aren't you?!" I looked down at my stomach, quite proud of my toned abs, and looked up at her again._

"_I don't think so." It came out as a squeak. Not the tone I was hoping for here. _

"_Well, congratulations, dearie! You are going to be a mother! And now the baby boy. Let's see what the future entails for you!" Again, she rotated her hands around the ball and closed her eyes in concentration. I leaned back in my chair, glad the attention had diverted from me. My cheeks were still read from the future reading I had received. I could see Imtiaz sniggering on my right and wacked him across his chest. Suddenly, the palmist opened her eyes, and darted across the table and grabbed Luck's hand. I reached forward to stop her when I saw Im hold me back. Alright she was just reading his palm, not hurting him. She looked at Luck in the eyes, and then brushed his hair across his forehead to reveal the lightning bolt scar._

"_So, much pain for one so young. Touched by destiny and fate. And…Touched by evil incarnate." She peered at me, straight into my eyes. Now I didn't think she was a cheat or fraud. But someone who knew something about my son. "You have a hard journey ahead my child, your destiny awaits you. Back home. In England. Your birth family back at home. The Potters. " Lucky immediately snatched his hand back from her, he shot up from his chair and glared into her eyes._

"_I have no family back there. This is my home now. India. I have nothing in England. You hear me nothing!" and then he stormed out of the tent._

"_Denial is not the answer to every problem. He has to learn that. Learn acceptance, sacrifice, love above all else. Make sure he knows all that, he will need it in the Final Battle." Suddenly, her eyes lost their dreamy look and she snapped back into reality. "That will be Rs. 300, please. Thank you. So mote it be." _

_We hurried out of the tent and looked for Lucky. We found him sitting by the ice-cream vendor. We both smiled. He looked so sweet, a seven year old brooding. I knew just how to cheer him up. I went to the ice-cream man and bought his favorite- Butterscotch flavor. Imtiaz grabbed Lucky from behind and spun him rapidly. My sweet boy let out giggles, which soon turned into full-blown laughter. I gave him the ice-cream and he gladly chomped on it. The incident was forgotten. _

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"That meant nothing, Imtiaz. We discussed it that night."

"It explains how the woman knew Luck's birth name, birthplace. How she knew when you didn't, that you were pregnant. She must have actually been some sort of a seer, right? To know something that was never disclosed to her in the first place."

"First of all, pregnancy could have been a guess. You know how people all say that you glow in pregnancy, even more beautiful. Maybe all that bullshit is actually true. And secondly, Lucky is clearly a white boy, Im. She could have guessed. Anyone white seems to be from England or US. And the Potters name it must have been a coincidence. Lucky has long forgone his name."

"Then, why are you getting so upset, if everything is behind us? Fact is that we are trying to make a situation simple. Which it is not. Lucky has two loyalties, Sara. To us and to his birth parents. You must try to understand that. _Lucky_ needs to understand that." I protested again and this time, he held up his hand to quiet me. "I know the story you told me of how Lucky thinks his parents were drunks and useless people. But fact is that Lucky _thinks_ that. Does he know that? He had been told he was a freak all his life. When he found us, we told him he was special. Now he believes he _is_ special, destined for something great. We taught him that. Isn't it possible, then, Sara, that his parents weren't actually the worst that he thinks of them? Is it right for us to keep him from them, from knowing his own parents, who could have loved him unconditionally? Is it right for us to keep Lucky from his destiny? And wasn't this actually what we were looking for? Any sign, any clue as to how we could help him come to terms with his powers and strength. Then why are we trying to withdraw now? I don't know about you, Sara, but I think we should give this school a chance. At least talk to the woman before we make our decision. We need our facts and data." And then finishing his sermon, he went back to his food. Shit! I hated when he was right.

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And so, three days later, we all found ourselves back in the Silver Market. But the problem was this. The market was the oldest in Delhi. It had 50 main turns and infinite small turns. Where were we that night? Umm….yeah. Let's try and remember. Well I distinctly remember smelling Paranthas, spicy pancakes. So we had to be near the famous Food Street. And then there was a boutique there for wedding dresses, what was the name- Similar Fashions, no…Sweet Fashions….no Sexy….no…Shingaar (Decoration) Fashion! Yup! I hurried my pace, keeping an active eye on the signs boards above me and guided my husband and son through the crowd of millions. At last, I saw the clothes shop, and the same smell of the delicious Paranthas. My stomach growled. I groaned in despair. First things first, find the creepy lady. Harry caught up with me, and pulled me along into the narrow street, much like he had done that night, and pointed through the glass doors. Taking a deep breath in, I put my hand on the handle, and pushed it open.

The same scene caught me and Luck. The old woman, Zaire, was standing behind the counter, cleaning the vials and glasses. Another younger woman, her assistant, perhaps, was restocking the small glasses, and…was that frog legs? Eww….

"Madame Talhaine, my husband and I are here. We want to carry forward the discussion regarding the schooling system for magic-children."

"A bit later than I expected, but no matter. Please sit down, tea with a single sugar cube, right? Coming right up. Now on the table you will find a brochure." I reached for the pamphlets on the table- Magical Child and the Non-Magical Parents. "It is an introduction into the how-dos of the magical life of your child. Such as how to ground them sufficiently enough. I have a feeling that is what most of the parents need or want to understand. Don't want to send your child to his room and learn that they have magically transported themselves to the Bahamas, now do we?" I paled at the comment. She laughed at my discomfort, "Don't worry, most aren't able to learn magic transportation in school. Those who are they are not able to do international transportation. Long distance travel requires a license. Like driving." Imtiaz and I flipped through the pamphlet and read through some of the sections- Subjects To Be Learned, the Ministry Department, Emergency Contacts, Disciplining your Child, etc. I looked up from the pamphlets and let her know that we were interested only in what she herself had to say. She came to the table and sat down with us- Imtiaz, Lucky, and I. "Now, right now I understand Eklavya is seven years old?" I nodded my head. "All schools around the world start the formal education around eleven, and then for seven years you study magic. In India, the trend has been for parents to enroll their children in magical play-schools or part-time magic schools to start their education. It gives them an exposure of the magical community, and we of course in the play-school teach basic skills like reading and writing. Abroad, mostly parents make their children do home-schooling by governesses or they themselves teach the children. You can select from a range of many play-schools, which later feed into the mainstream formal education schools. The formal education starts at eleven, where you learn the basic skills of magic. The subjects vary from Divination (a strong part of Indian magic), Potion Making and Alchemy, Creature Study, House Magic, Defensive Magic, to popular sports like Carpet Flying. These subjects are available from standard 1 through 4. From standard 5, you get divided into specialization streams. You can specialize into areas of magic. The basic subjects are the same, the content changes. The streams are- Dark and Light Arts, Inventory Sphere, Magical Politics and Commerce, etc. Are you all with me so far?" I nodded. It sounded simple enough I guess. A bit like the fairy tale stories one always heard about. Except more, real.

"Now, let us look at the school brochures for formal education, shall we- would you like boarding or normal?" Boarding would not be good for anyone of us. For one thing, I would die of fright thinking what would be happening to my child in that witch school, and on the other I don't think no matter how open Lucky has become with us, that he would like to be away from home so soon, at such a young age. So, both of us asked for normal. She clapped her hands, and a few brochures disappeared in a blue smoke from a rack and re-appeared in the same smoke onto the table.

"Wow," Lucky exclaimed, "you can do that just by clapping your hands?"

"Let me tell you a little secret, sweetie." She bent close to him and said, "The smoke is just for show. Gives a good magical effect doesn't it?" She winked at him and pointed to each brochure one by one, "Asura Academy of Tantra, Sri Lanka. It is my job to tell you about all of these schools, but I wouldn't recommend this one, doesn't exactly go with the good parenting thing unless you want your child to become the next Demon Lord. But you didn't hear that from me. Next, Samara School of Magical Thought. A new establishment located in the mountains of Himalayas. Rating so far is—3.5 out of 5. It offers new courses. Next, Gandhi Academy of Light Arts. Not recommended. They just stole the name for the publicity…"

"Wait," I said, "Gandhi was a magician?"

"A sorcerer….how else do you think he could go on a fast onto death, his magic used to feed the body…for a while. Even magic has its limitations. Next, Wiccan Magic University. They teach pure wicca, no adulteration. Specialization from the start if you want. Lastly, Kali Academy of Magical Arts. One of the oldest establishments of magic in India. Underground. Underneath the northern India region, Ayodhya (a city, birthplace of Lord Ram (one of the Hindu Gods)), old magic and all that. It feeds on that. Recommended, but it goes with the simple ways. It feeds on international curriculum, no new innovations for course. It's tough to get into. Now for any of these schools, you just need to fill in this form. State whether you want part-time pre-schooling, or full-time. And follow the directions. When you get accepted, the school puts an access way like a door in any part of your house, like in the closet or in the bathroom, hidden away from other people's views, and you can access the school anytime. It basically opens into the schools. Very secure though. Guarded by various wards and enchantments, no need to worry about that. Any other questions?" We shook our heads, took the school pamphlets, and left the shop once again. We had a lot of thinking to do.

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_A/N:- How's that? Any guesses where I put him? I have already made my mind on the school and everything. I am thinking of the love life and friendships though… hmm….maybe I'll copy a Bollywood movie. I'll give you guys a hint, if you can guess—Rats and Meow. Maybe just one more- Ranjor ka Rathore! Lol….let me know if anyone figures it out. I loved the movie! So incredibly cute….!_


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